Better Than I Used To Be
by DaughterOfTheBrownCoats
Summary: A man who's had more than one dance with the Devil has always been better with his wild Rogue. Just another Rogan story, one about Pack and Mating and life at a school for mutants. No angst or too-somber thoughts here, just smut (Logan is a growly, dominant feral and is written as such) and hopefully laughter. And claws. Mmm, claws... Anyway, enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_Hi, everyone! I'm glad you're taking the time to read my first chapter of my first Rogan story. The smut in this story is going to have over- and under-tones of bdsm with a sprinkle of light D/s and a drizzle of dominant feral Wolverine. But please, don't misunderstand, there's none of that creepy "Fifty Shades" crap. Just some good healthy spanking and then snuggling :) And claws... mmmm claws... Believe me, the plot in my head is wayyy dirtier than the one I'm actually presenting to you guys, but I figure I shouldn't horrify on my first X-Men story._

 _I don't know if anyone out there is a fan of country music like me, but if you are, you might notice that the title is from the Tim McGraw song. Whenever I hear it, I think of Logan/Wolverine, so I thought it was appropriate for this story, but it's not a song-fic._

 _ _Also, in my story, everyone is alive,_ _Marie still took the cure when she was 18, but_ _Charles never meddled in Jean's head so she has all her power but never went crazy, not that that's really important, just thought I should mention it.__

 _There's no beta on this story, most people in my life would be too horrified to read something like this, so any mistakes are mine. I try to read and reread, but sometimes I still miss little things._ _Please feel free to review or message me with any ideas or suggestions or comments or complaints... Pretty much anything. Per the agreement on this lovely site, I shall show the utmost respect to all reviewers. Unless I'm making fun of them. Oh, well._

 _Anyway, welcome and enjoy!_

It was a cool October day, the doors to the garage open and letting in the breeze and afternoon sunshine. Under the second-hand car he had just acquired, Logan worked, despite the myriad distractions that assaulted his enhanced senses. It wasn't the roughness of the garage floor under his back or the overwhelming smell of the various other fluids he'd changed on the car. It wasn't even the country music pounding out of the speakers. No, he liked that well enough.

What he did find utterly distracting was the damn kid, Rogue, _Marie_ , her singing along with the music. Her cedar-and-rain scent permeating even the garage smells. Tucked under the car, he could hear her moving around, the heels of her boots clacking on the cement. When she danced in front of where he lay, he could see those battered boots, her faded jeans outlining them.

He sighed. The damn girl just couldn't stop moving today. "Hey, kid, I need that wrench and pan from the workbench. Help me out?"

"Sure thing, sugar," she sang in tune to the song playing, and he watched her boots dance over to the workbench. Marie rummaged around in the assorted tools he kept on the bench, finally coming up with items he'd requested. As she strode back to the car, her boots thumped to the rhythm of the music as the song changed, her voice raised with the gritty lyrics. She stood next to the car and stopped. Logan knew just what she'd look like, her legs spread in a wide stance, hips cocked. Head thrown back as she sang from the bottom of her lungs.

He wanted to just close his eyes, let her voice, her scent, her very Marie-ness wash over him. When she couldn't see him, when no one could see him, those were the only times he let himself have that, when there was no one to see and judge him for breathing her in. Fuck it, he wanted to soak her up. Because he wanted it so badly, and he felt guilty for it, he cursed under his breath, kicked out, hooked Marie's ankle with his own boot. Gave a quick jerk.

Marie landed on her ass with a shriek and a clatter, the wrench and the pan skittering across the concrete. Logan's laugh rolled out from under the car as the Rogue did a little of her own cursing. He was more than a little amused to hear a few of his own favorites mixed it. However, the Rogue had been coached by the Wolverine and her well-trained reflexes were deeply ingrained. Like a snake, Marie's hand clamped on Logan's boot and she hauled him halfway out of the shelter of the car, still laughing like a loon. Her fist struck out, a sharp pain on his ribs, though judging by her gasp his adamantium bones hurt her more than she'd hurt him.

He grabbed for her hands to prevent her bashing her hands further, but she slid them from his grip, the butter smooth leather of her gloves letting her slither free. She yanked on his jeans, pulling him farther out of the sanctuary of the car. This time her fist aimed for his face.

He snagged it, and, still laughing, dragged her down across his chest. But the Rogue was no weakling and had been through many a Danger Room tour. Logan knew what she was capable of; he'd taught her all he knew about hand-to-hand combat. He approved of her fearlessness and her temper. Like a feral, Marie went for his throat but he pushed her back, mindful of his strength, so that she skidded on her butt. In a flash, she launched herself back on him and he could only be proud of her tenaciousness. However, the kid wouldn't pull her punches and he had no interest in nursing her broken hands, so he snagged both fists and used her momentum to flip over. Pinned her hands to the floor of the garage.

She bucked under him, using the tricks he'd taught her, scissorred her legs around his and arching up. With a normal opponent, perhaps one not weighed down with more than two hundred pounds of adamantium, the move would have had him on his back. However, Logan didn't move with the motion and all Marie did was shove her body up into direct contact with Logan's.

His weight pressed her to the concrete, her hair spread over the oil stained floor. His big hands still held hers to the ground on either side of her head and he could feel her pulse hammering under his fingers. Honed feral senses perked up as her scent spiked, suddenly not so much cedar-and-rain as wildfire-and-lightning. He could almost feel the electricity humming under the leather of her gloves.

Those damn gloves! She had control, had learned it as her power grew back after taking that fucking Cure and she didn't need the stupid things. With a growl, he caged both wrists in one of his hands and peeled off the leather, exposing her creamy skin, first one hand then the second. When she cursed at him, he knocked his forehead against hers and snarled, "You don't fucking need them, why do you keep wearin''em?"

"I'm used to them," Marie gasped out. "Plus," she added with an annoyed yank on her wrists, "they make me slippery, so I can get away from lumps of metal like you!" He knocked his head against hers again, hard enough to make a thunking noise and elicit a groan and a scowl from her.

"Yeah, well, this lump of metal has got you in a pretty helpless position, don't I?" He grinned down at her, using the weight of his body between her legs to keep her pinned to the floor as she squirmed and wiggled, looking for a way past his guard. "So, Rogue, you're outweighed, outgunned, and trapped, what's your plan?"

She glared up at him, suddenly breathless at the feel of his weight pressing down on her. There was a lot of pressure in one very specific place and it was making all kinds of interesting thoughts pop into her head. Thoughts like how they were alone in the garage, how he smelled like pine needles and grease and good, clean sweat, how his weight pressed her hard to the floor…

Logan's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared at the new smell… Now she was moss-and-smoke, dark and earthy and it was pure arousal. He knew it well, had smelled it before, usually when she thought he wasn't paying any attention to her, like when they watched tv together. Or more often, when he passed her bedroom door on the way to his own room. Usually he let it go; it was safer all around if they both pretended there was nothing but friendship between them.

He knew she'd been attracted to him when she was younger; he was the Wolverine after all, and she'd been an impressionable girl who'd put her trust in him. Through the thick and thin, he liked to think that he'd done an alright job of it. After all, she was now a grown woman of twenty-three and perfectly capable of taking down any opponent she wished. Even him, if she really wanted; he figured she was about the only one who could take him down and keep him down, if it came to that.

A puppy-love crush from a girl of sixteen was not something he'd've taken advantage of, at least that's what he always told himself. Now, the heady lust of a grown woman, one whose body was currently pressed intimately to his own… Well, that was something else entirely.

Slowly, exerting a control he didn't know he had, giving her time to stop him, he laid his lips over hers. For a second, he waited, listening to her heart stutter and gallop, then mold her to his, keeping his eyes open and on her wide green ones.

When she exhaled his name, he breathed it in and watched her eyes flare. This time when his lips met hers, passion was there, fiery and hot. His tongue ran over her lips and played for entrance, licking and tickling. When she didn't at once allow him in, he used his free hand to cup her face, pressing her jaw with his thumb so that her mouth opened. He took immediate advantage and thrust his tongue in, tasting her spicy sweetness. Devoured her in greedy bites.

She moaned softly. Kissed him back with intensity. There was little gentleness with these two as their teeth nipped and clashed. Their mouths parted and he took his on a journey of her face, over her jaw and to her ears, taking little bites at her neck and earlobes, uncaring that he was leaving marks on her pale skin with his teeth and stubble. Glorying in the redness he brought. His hands still bracketed hers over her head and she arched up, pressing her breasts to his chest. Logan pulled away from nuzzling that tender spot where her pulse beat fast on her neck and growled, "You gonna hit me again if I let you go, kid?"

When she shook her head no, he narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sure I trust that…but what the hell?"

Logan's hand lifted from her wrists and went to her hip, stroking his long fingers up over her soft belly while his mouth returned to take hers. Marie's hands went to the back of his head, dug into his crazy hair. Dragged him closer. With him immersed in the kiss, she slid her hands down his tough body, her nails clawing at his skin through his oil-stained undershirt. He rumbled and used one hand to drag it off over his head. Marie hummed her pleasure and dug her fingers into the muscles of his back. He rumbled back at her and slid his hands under her tanktop.

She squirmed under his hands, whispering for more. He pulled away from her, lifted his head to look town at her, her cheeks rosily flushed and her lips swollen from his. She arched up and dug her nails in, panting, "Logan, goddamn it!"

Logan dropped his head back to the curve of her neck, murmuring something that sounded like "Greedy kid," and ran his hands up to her breasts. Fondled her under the tanktop and her bra. Her skin was warm and soft and he could feel her shivering, smell the arousal pouring off her in waves. His mouth watered to taste her and the clothing was in his way. With a growl and a _snick_ , a single adamantium claw slid halfway out.

A flick of his wrist and her shirt and bra split down the middle, exposing her torso to his hungry eyes. Another _snick_ and the claw was back in and his hands were on her skin, cupping her breasts. He pinched her nipples between his fingers and rumbled deep in his chest at her moan of pleasure. There was no way he could resist dropping his head and kissing those breasts, licking over the pretty nipples. Hungry for more, he cupped both breasts and pressed them together, taking both nipples into his mouth. When he scraped his teeth over them, her scent spiked again.

He lifted his head and smirked down at the flushed and panting Rogue. "Ya like it rough, kid?" His voice was nearly too rough to understand, what with the blood pounding in her head. All Marie could was squeak out was his name again. Logan's head dipped to her, making eye contact over the expanse of her rosy chest. "Darlin', you seem to be having a bit of trouble with your words today."

Her hand left his back to smack him on the side of his head. He just grinned at her and returned to nibbling on her breasts; he let his hands to drift down, rubbed over her hips and thighs, stroked back up the inside of her legs.

With his hand poised just below Marie's center, he let himself bask in the heat emanating from her. When she growled, "Logan, come on..." he smiled wickedly and crushed his lips to hers again, pushing his fingers against her heat. The smell of her, her spice and smoke wreathed his head, making him drunk. Marie pressed down on his teasing fingers and licked his lips. Sharp little teeth sunk into his lower lip and he snarled at her, forcing his fingers tightly to her through the denim of her jeans.

Her body's dampness soaked the material and he could feel it on his fingers, slick and silky. It wasn't nearly enough for him. With her head lolling back in pure carnality, the _snick_ of Logan's claws barely registered. The cold air let in by him slicing a gash in the crotch of her jeans did register, but only for the briefest second before the heat of Logan's fingers warmed her up.

She cried out at the first tough of his skin on her: too much, too much, but not _enough_!

With his mouth feasting on her hungry lips, rumbling in pleasure at the silky flesh between her legs, Logan speared his fingers into her. Marie cried out again, the yelping gasp half muffled by his lips. The tough little body tightened like a coiled spring under his. Logan laughed against her mouth and husked out, "Been a while, hasn't it, darlin'? Mm, you're so fuckin' tight and wet…" His voice trailed off to a low rumble as he pressed his long fingers deeper and felt the flimsy barrier.

Pleasure, primal and more forceful than he could have anticipated roared through him: she was untouched. The magnificent, powerful, passionate Rogue was a virgin…He'd known that, of course he had, he'd have smelled any man foolish enough to put his hands on her. But the feral in his head howled with yearning and he couldn't stop himself from snagging her lips with bruising force, sharing his desire with her. Then the Wolverine eased up a bit in his head and Logan pulled off her, lifting his fingers from the glorious heat, and knocked his forehead to hers. The gesture was so utterly Logan that Marie just chuckled breathlessly into his face.

Logan rubbed his nose on her face and down into her hair, soaking up more of her scent. "Rogue… God, Marie." Without putting too fine a point, Marie, spurred on by the Rogue, was a highly sensual woman. A highly sensual woman who took touching too seriously to sleep with random men but one who he knew for a fact had visited the special store in town. That one store where they sold overpriced pieces of plastic and silicone in pretty colors designed in the fanciful image of a certain body part. That store.

"You're still…?"

She just shook her head and tried to pull him down for a kiss again. "No, wait, Marie, hang on –" Logan lifted his head so he could speak without encountering her lips. "Darlin'… No, I ain't gonna take your first time on the greasy floor of the garage."

"Logan, please… You wouldn't get me running hot like this and just leave me!" Her voice spiked on a little wail. "I need…please, Logan, I need you…" Her words trailed off and he could hear her heart pounding under his chest.

The Wolverine grinned wickedly down at her from his place between her legs. "Aw, baby, you don't gotta beg." He dipped his head and brushed his lips to her ear as she grabbed his shoulders and hung on, rumbled in her ear, "But I sure like it when you do." He raised his head and gave her a roguish smile. "Darlin', of course I won't leave you like this. Maybe I ain't gonna take you, not here and now, but …" He stopped speaking to just watch her when he trailed his fingers over that tender place between her legs again. When his girl flinched under his broad fingers, he just nuzzled her throat, licking and sucking at the pulse point that beat like a hammer.

Dragged his sharp teeth over that spot. Reveled in her helpless whimper.

Her body twitched and he could feel her fluttering against his fingers, her silken liquid soaking them as he stroked in and out. Her strong body arched under his, and he used one hand between her breasts to push her back down. "Uh-uh, darlin', you just lie there and take it like a good little Rogue." She growled at him and he felt her mutation kick in, a tickle that started at his palm and fingers, and moved up his arm. In half a second, his claws _snicked_ out an inch or so and he pressed the back of them to her chest, using the adamantium she couldn't draw on to keep her in place.

"Oh, no you don't, darlin', that's not how you're gonna get me inside of you," he teased. When he felt the pull on his fingers buried in her body relax, he retracted the middle claw and slid his hand up her chest, pressing his palm to her throat, squeezed lightly, then the flat of his fist. He let the two outer claws slide slowly out to spear into the cement on either side of her throat. "Now stay still, little girl, and you won't get hurt."

Under his heavy body, she shivered and the smell of her spiked. It wasn't fear of his words or claws but a wash of excitement and he couldn't stop the smirk that slid over his face. So his girl was a little into the wildness. Well, he could use that later, once he'd fully claimed her. For now, anyway…

With a grunt drawn from his own turmoil, _fuck,_ it was hard to make plans about taking care and making her first time a good kind of memorable when she was wet and willing and moving so sweetly under his claws, he pulled he fingers from her wet sheath. She moaned softly and her hips tried to follow his fingers up. His smile widened and he pressed his fingers back in, using the heel of his hand to hold her to the floor. Then he set up a steady, driving rhythm, moving his digits in and out of her, curling them up to stroke that soft place inside of her coiled body.

Her entire body shook, sweat beading on her flushed face, her nipples still hard as little stones and he could tell she wasn't far from her peak. Logan couldn't resist and lowered his head again to her breasts, latching his mouth onto one rosy peak and drawing strongly. She wailed, "Logan! Wolverine!" and his feral side notched a click tighter and his teeth dug into the tender nub he held.

Around his invading fingers, she clamped and spasmed. He groaned his pleasure around her breast and kept thrusting, dragging out her orgasm until she was breathless and limp under him.

When finally even the little aftershocks had stopped, he slowly withdrew his hand from the soft cavern between her legs. Her head was down on the ground again, her face flushed and lax, but her drowsy eyes following the movement of his damp fingers. When he brought his fingers to his mouth, licked her juices off with a mischievous leer, she just whimpered. Once he'd cleaned his fingers of her scent, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers, tasting all of her.

Again he nuzzled her throat, breathing in the newly softened smell of her, of his Marie when she was sated by a man, by _him_ for the very first time. He rolled them over, taking her weight on his chest with no difficulty. She struggled weakly in his arms but he just slapped a broad hand onto her ass and shifted her so that the hole in her jeans was right over the bulge behind his zipper. She could feel the press of the tiny metal teeth against the still-tender and sensitive flesh between her legs and reached for him, sliding one of her naked hands between their bodies to cup him through the taut denim.

He could see the back of her hand spreading the lips of her body and he rumbled, "Darlin', I need you to get off of me. I'm gonna change my mind any minute about taking you here in the grease if you keep that hand on that pretty pussy of yours."

Marie's eyebrows rose and she pressed her right hand to the floor next to his head and raised her body enough to look down between them. When her head tipped back up to his, her face flushed but she let a smile creep across her lips as she turned her hand around, moving to tickle her exposed flesh with her fingertips.

Logan's eyes flared gold and he fisted one hand in her hair, the other on her ass. He yanked her head down and to the side, digging his teeth into the space between her throat and shoulder. He growled against her skin, "Baby, you're gonna do that for me again, but it's gonna be in my bed and we're both gonna be bare-ass naked when you do. Now, get your cute little ass out of here before I change my mind about letting you go."

Marie wanted to argue, wanted to lean down and kiss him and make him finish what he'd started, but she could see the Wolverine flickering gold in his eyes. She didn't fear the Wolverine, never had. Had never had any cause to. But she knew Logan didn't trust that part of himself, not where gentleness and care were concerned, especially not with her. New as this was to her, and while she knew the Wolverine would never hurt her, she suspected Logan was right in worrying that the Wolverine wouldn't make her first time easy. He would never forgive himself for hurting her; Logan had obscure moments of chivalry and she had a feeling that letting the Wolverine take her first time would be crossing all of his protective lines.

This was going to be hard enough, walking away from him, for both of them, without pushing his feral side to the limits. So she just nodded and lifted herself off of his body, keeping her hand down in front of the sliced hole in her jeans but careful to not actually touch her skin; that would only enflame her stressed feral more. From above him, she looked down at him, her eyes dark. "Don't think you're running away after this. Meet me after dinner." She turned and strode from the garage, stopping only long enough to snatch up her leather jacket and wrapping it around her tattered clothing. Her only goal was to get back to her room without anyone stopping her to ask why she looked like she'd just been mugged.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hi, everyone! I'm posting this one along with the first chapter because it's just so pitifully short, so just go ahead and pretend it's part of chapter one. Yup. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the quick glimpse into Logan's mind after the first interlude with Marie._

 _Per usual, I own nothing, just my computer and my plot and a couple pieces of overpriced, colorful silicone :)_

Chapter 2

Logan lay on the floor after she'd gone, listening to her boots clicking on cement, then wood flooring. Finally, even his enhanced hearing couldn't detect her footsteps over the distance and the music and the sound of a hundred children changing classrooms. He had the presence of mind to slide back under the car in case anyone came wandering into the garage; he didn't want traumatize any unwary teenager with a set of claws or a massive hard-on. Back under the shelter of the car, he thumped his head onto the cement several times, welcoming the throbbing that bloomed for a few minutes as a distraction from the heavy throbbing located farther south.

When his healing factor kicked in and healed the minor concussion, he _snicked_ his claws in and out a few times, letting the pain anchor him to the moment. If he got distracted enough, maybe his factor would play nice and let this damn erection subside. Time passed and there seemed to be no help for it. Too many images of Marie above him, her chestnut hair hanging around her breasts…

The Rogue, wild under him, his hand at her throat, her eyes shining with hunger.

Logan let out a groan at that one and opened his fly with a reluctant sigh. His last clear thought before he wrapped a hand around the frustrating erection and let the Wolverine out was that no virgin should be so fucking happy to have his hand around her throat and his teeth on her skin.

His wild girl didn't know who, or what, she was playing with, but damn, he couldn't _wait_ to show her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hours later, after she'd showered off the evidence of the afternoon, Marie stood in front of her closest, her mind painfully blank. "What the hell am I supposed to wear to have dinner with a hundred uncontrolled kids and the man who had his hand down my pants this afternoon?! Not to freaking mention a dozen nosey superheroes and the strongest telepath in the world!" Her voice was strangled and more shrill than she liked and she was deeply grateful that no one was there to hear her act like a child and having a minor panic attack over _clothing_ , for God's sake.

The clock on the mantel over her small fireplace chimed six o'clock and she groaned in frustration and just snatched clothes at random, coming up with a gray long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She tugged them on and slid on her boots, grabbing her jacket on the way out.

The enormous dining room was already crowded when she entered and walked to the adults' table. The others had all gathered and she slid into her habitual spot between Jubilee and Remy, picking up her water glass and taking a long drink before looking over the table to Logan, sitting in his own usual spot directly across from hers. His eyes were on his plate and for all intents and purposes he appeared totally consumed with the slab of meatloaf on his plate. He had mashed potatoes with gravy that he was systematically spreading over the meatloaf. The mound of peas and the bowel of salad lay untouched. When the bread basket came to him, he ripped two chunks off the end and took a huge bite of one before thrusting the basket at Hank who sat on his right. Finally looked up at Marie, Logan caught her eye and tossed the second chunk at her.

Marie caught it out of habit, and suddenly felt a little more comfortable, this little ritual of theirs calming her rattled nerves. She shot him a smile, only realizing she'd let it linger a little too long when Jubilee elbowed her and hissed at her to "Take the stupid plate, chica!" Marie rescued the frighteningly wobbly platter of meatloaf from her friend before Jubilee could spill any on herself. Jubilee would be in a much more understanding frame of mind regarding Marie slipping off after dinner if no damage had occurred to her precious clothing or, God forbid, her shoes.

She plunked a slab on her own plate and passed the plate on to Remy on her other side. The Cajun took the plate with a wink and murmured, "Merci, ma chérie." His hand closed over hers on the plate and she could feel the flex of his clever fingers through the thin gloves she wore. She quirked an eyebrow at the Cajun and he flashed a wicked smile before taking the plate from her. She turned back to her plate and found Logan staring at her, his hazel eyes sharp and annoyed. He looked at her for a second then shifted his gaze to Remy; because she was listening for it, Marie could hear the low growl coming from his throat. His empathic talents triggered, the Cajun looked up and caught Logan staring at him.

For any normal man, an angry Wolverine would be enough to cause alarm, but Remy just raised his eyebrows then let his eyes drift to Marie. Remy sent a knowing smirked to Logan and turned back to his own dinner, patently ignoring the imminent threat of bodily harm. The disrespect made Logan's rumble grow louder. Marie, under cover of the table, kicked his leg with her boot hard enough to distract him. She furrowed her brow at him and narrowed her eyes.

With a black scowl, Logan turned his head forward again, shooting her a look that promised retribution. She shook her head and gestured at his plate. Under her breath, knowing he'd hear, she said, "Eat, sugar, we've got business to attend to." Logan dipped his head in acknowledgment and applied himself to his dinner with a vengeance. With one last wary look at him, Marie did the same.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi, all, hope everything's going well out in Readerville. This is a tiny chapter. Apparently that's really all I'm able to write. As the story goes on, you might notice that many of the characters pair off. I like happy couples, so deal :)_

Despite her best intentions, Marie had been unable to escape Jubilee's clutches before the yellow girl had coerced her into a game of pool, promising to keep Remy off her case the rest of the night if Marie would just play one game. So, Marie played with Jubilee against Remy and Piotr, using all the skills Logan had taught her over countless pool games. However, even her finely honed hustling abilities were severely hampered by Jubilee's ridiculous flirting with both their opponents. Poor Piotr just flushed a little and tried to ignore her, but Remy was happy to corner Jubilee against the table.

When he pressed her up against the edge of the table and took a shot while trying to steal a kiss, Marie gave up trying to play and sent a resigned smile at the quiet Russian. "Maybe we can play again tomorrow, when these two have gotten…whatever this is, out of their systems."

Piotr smiled gently back at her then turned a stony look on the two at the table. "Rogue, I don't understand why they do this every time we play. Why don't they simply go up to Gambit's room and do this in private?" Even though he was older than Rogue, the collective in her mind gave her an edge over the big man. Not to mention, for as big and tough and friendly as he was, Piotr had a pure, sweet streak that no amount of skirmishes with the Brotherhood or Friends of Humanity could dim. It always made her want to hug him, which was saying a lot for a woman with a lot of "touching" issues.

"Pete, honey, if I knew, I'd tell you, but these two have never been normal. Maybe they just like the audience." She patted his shoulder and took his cue to rack it up with hers. "Why don't you go find Eppie? She was wanting to work on your metal form anyway. Said something yesterday about wanting to see how much heat you can actually withstand." Marie couldn't keep the smirk from her voice or face as Piotr's cheeks flushed at the mention of the redheaded elf-like blacksmith.

Eppie Crawford, who had chosen Hephaestus as her X-Men name, was a mutant a few years older than Marie with a metalworking mutation. While she couldn't manipulate it like Magneto, when she heated it up, she could twist and twine it into anything she had a mind for, barehanded and with mental persuasion. Her mutation also let her determine the properties of metals by touch. Naturally, she was fascinated with Piotr's mutation, and, Rogue suspected, Piotr himself. Piotr had never fully tested his metal form, so even he didn't know his limitations; with Eppie's help he might finally get to see just what his mutation could withstand.

Piotr gave Marie a sweet smile and said, "You're right, Rogue, I've been meaning to work with her." He gave her a solemn nod and walked out of the rec room, likely heading for Eppie's forge tucked out by the greenhouses behind the mansion. She smiled after his enormous back. Such a sweet man. She hoped Eppie took the chance to make her move on the big man. The fiery little pixie had been not-so-secretly lusting after the man and his metal form for months, ever since she'd come to the school.

With Piotr going to see Eppie and Remy and Jubilee still wrapped up in each other, Marie took her chance and slipped away. She needed to find Logan.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi, folks! Hope you're enjoying the story as much as I've enjoyed writing it so far :) This is one of my personal favorite chapters I've written as yet, because we bring in the other mutant that I lust after with a pure (and kinda twisted) heart. I'm sorry, I'm not going to be able to post for a couple days, I'm taking my Board of Certification on Saturday and I need to focus on that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Send me any questions, complaints, or suggestions!_

Following feral senses she borrowed from Logan, tracking the leather-and-pine smell that was his scent, Marie headed out. There were only a few places he'd usually be this time of night, and since the Professor always got grumpy when he smoked inside, and she was sure he'd be feeling the need for a cigar, outside was the most likely place. The grounds were extensive and as she tracked him with his own senses, she couldn't help but be grateful for his mutation; she was in no mood to hunt for him all over the estate.

When her power had slowly returned after the Cure injection, and she'd learned her control, she'd also learned how to access the mutations she absorbed. They were not gone, as she'd thought, just faded back into their little "boxes" in her head. Sadly, the Cure had seemed to wipe her mental slate clean, so she hadn't kept any memories or mutations from before the injection, so one of Magneto's handy ability remained. She happily accepted that because now her mind was free of his fanatical rants or the memories of the human men she'd had to touch to protect herself on the fatefully journey to Alaska. The journey that had ended in Laughlin City with her in Logan's truck and an angry Sabretooth trying to kill them.

Logan was the first person she'd told her mutation was coming back, that she found out she could use the mutations from mutants she absorbed. It had been fairly apparent when, after a casual hug from Jubilee, Marie'd sneezed and lit her tissue on fire . The first thing Logan had asked was if she could still reach his healing factor. It had nearly floored her. That was what he'd cared about most, not if she had access to his memories or Magneto's ability to manipulate his skeleton; he'd wanted to know if she could heal. She had tried for the first time, had reached for the healing factor to ease her aches from a Danger Room session, but there was nothing and she'd shaken her head.

Before she could explain that it was coming back the way it had come in, without any voluntary control on her part, he'd reached for her and placed his un-gloved palm on her cheek. So fierce was her instinct to not hurt him, she'd apparently managed to turn it off. When there'd been no deep-in-the-belly pull from her skin, not like those times he'd touched her to save her life, they both realized she's blocked it. He hadn't even commented, just told her, "Come on, kid, take a little. I need to know that you're gonna be safe out there." She'd stared, shocked into silence while he just stood there, waiting patiently with his hand cupping her jaw. When she finally let down her new-found control, just a bit, and had drawn on his mutation, careful to take just a second's worth, it had been like opening a window and letting in golden sun, not a flash-flood fire like it had always been before. He'd only given her a small Logan-smile, more like squinty eyes than a curve of the lips, and had told her to try it out.

She remembered that first taste of his senses, how they'd flooded her own and nearly knocking her to her knees. Here was the firestorm she'd expected. Logan had forced her head down between her knees. Talked her through the overwhelming flood of noises and smells. With his instructions, she'd focused first on the sound of his heartbeat; with the enhanced abilities, it had sounded like thunder in her ears. He'd told her to close her eyes, then, and follow her nose to the cafeteria. She'd done it well, only walking into a few walls, which he'd used as an opportunity to instruct her in the healing factor, and he'd clapped her on the shoulder and offered her one of his precious Molsons.

Remembering that first beer they'd had together, she detoured through the kitchen and opened "Logan's" fridge to grab a six-pack of Molson. He'd gotten an old second-hand one, set it up in the kitchen, and used his claws to make three shallow, and very distinctive, gouges on its door. He'd then proceeded to stock it with assorted liquor, his favorite beer and any junk food he didn't want the kids to eat all of before he got to it. As far as Marie was aware, there had never been an issue with the kids getting into Logan's refrigerator.

Carrying the cold six-pack, Marie followed the smell of Logan's cigars out of the mansion and down to the edge of the lake where Logan sat on a log. As Marie approached, he lifted his cigar and took a deep drag. The tip lit up and smoke curled around him before blowing back to her. Logan's own senses were much stronger than her borrowed ones and she heard him say, "Come on down, kid, the water's fine."

She chuckled as she took a seat and passed him the beer. He took two from the carrier and used his claws to pop the tops and passed one back to her. For a few minutes they drank companionably, then she said, "So, you get that engine up and running again?"

Logan snorted and wiped a hand over his mouth with an open palm. "No, kid, I didn't get a chance to finish it before I got cleaned up for dinner."

She shot him a sidelong look, wanting to ask what he'd done for more than an hour but had a feeling that it might not be a smart question. So she just nodded and took a long pull from her bottle. Logan turned his head and watched her throat move as she swallowed the beer. Setting the bottle back down, she turned to face him, her eyes meeting his fearlessly. She was always fearless, his Rogue. Her eyes dropped after a second and he amended, nearly always fearless. Give her a Brotherhood fight, she'd take them all on. Friends Of Humanity riot, please. Hell, he'd watched her face down Victor Creed on her own, before Sabretooth had joined the X-Men. But one little interlude on the garage floor...

He cleared his throat to get her to look back up a her. "Darlin'–"

"Logan–"

They both paused, waiting for the other to speak. After a second of silence, Marie drained her bottle and slid it back into its spot in the holder. She plucked out another and passed it to Logan in a habitual motion; he popped the cap and passed it back as before.

"I changed my mind."

His heart stopped. His stomach clenched and all he could hear for a moment was the roar of his own blood in his ears. She'd changed her mind, she didn't want him. He'd scared her off, his fucking feral side was too much. Should have known she didn't want his rough, clawed hands on her, didn't want his battered, mutilated body to fill hers. Didn't want someone with all the years and baggage he carried, and why should she? She was young, strong, could take on the world. She deserved someone who hadn't fought his way through a century of war, someone her friends and coworkers would like, appreciate, admire, not a man who'd made most of his money shedding blood, his and others', in cages in scuzzy bars around the country. Someone who was nothing at all like him.

"Sugar, I can almost hear what you're thinking over there, and you have got to know how wrong you are. There is no better man, no one I could trust to take care of me more." He could smell her earnest genuineness, such a Marie quality. The Rogue could lie and bluff with the best of them, he'd taught her well, but his Marie never lied to him. He just couldn't bring himself to believe her…

"I just meant that I changed my mind about talking about what happened this afternoon tonight." There was a long pause then she continued, her voice hardening as she spoke, "I know you think I don't know what I'm talking about. Just a sheltered little virgin, what the hell do I know, right? Maybe you're thinking I should find someone to take care of that little problem for me. You wouldn't feel so guilty then, would you? It's no problem for you to fuck me, as long as you don't make me bleed for it, right?" Her words were hurting them both and he wanted to rip apart the imaginary man who would dare to take his Marie. Wanted to shake her for putting the images in his head, but he could smell her pain.

A small gloved hand reached for his own, squeezed. Rubbed fingers over the spaces between his knuckles where the claws would come out. Her sigh held pain and apology, but she didn't say the words, knew they would be meaningless when he could feel her regret of her harsh words.

"So, Logan, sugar, we're not going to talk about it right now. Right now, we're just gonna finish our beers and go to bed. Tomorrow, we're gonna spar in the Danger Room and hit Sully's. We're gonna drink whiskey or tequila or whatever we're feeling, and then, and only then, are we going to talk about the fact that you had your hands down my pants today. You with me, sugar?" Her words were ball-busting Rogue, but her tone was Marie's sweet southern comfort.

There was a moment of what she could only assume was stunned silence over her flipflopping tone, then he made a sound that was a laugh and a groan. "You always been a hellcat, kid. Yeah, I getcha." She wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned onto his shoulder, snuggling into his warmth as he wrapped an arm around her. He kissed the top of her head and spoke into her hair. "And don't you ever talk about fucking another guy, little girl, 'less you want me to spank your sweet ass raw."

Her smoky laugh bubbled up and he tugged her closer.

Some time later, the companionable moment of her handing Logan another beer was shattered when the arm around her suddenly went stiff and his claws slid out. She jacked up her borrowed feral senses and smelled the musk-and-cave smell that was Victor Creed. Before she could stop him, Logan was on his feet with his back to her, both sets of claws fully extended and a rough growl rumbling in his chest. Marie leapt to her feet and dropped a hand on his ridged shoulder. Without taking his eyes from the form prowling out of the darkness of the treeline, he used one broad arm to keep her behind his body.

"Victor."

"Jimmy. Hey, Stripes." His voice was a obnoxiously amused when he continued, "Isn't it a little late for you to be out, little frail?"

Logan's growl intensified and she rubbed his shoulder a little, trying to sooth him. For all that the Professor had accepted Victor onto the team, and he'd actually turned out to be an invaluable member as well as a fount of information, Logan still had some deep seated grudges against him, though Marie had mostly forgiven him.

"It's not that late, Victor, don't worry about me." She tried to keep her voice unruffled and friendly; usually, she had no problems against Victor. When Logan had confronted her, furious over her lack of anger at Victor for his part in the Liberty Island debacle, she'd just shrugged and told him she didn't see any point in holding a grudge for something that hadn't killed her. He'd groused that it _had_ almost killed him, so he'd just stay angry for a while, thanks, then had gone and started a vicious fight with Victor. They'd managed to demolish one of the greenhouses before the Professor'd had Jean intervene and separate the brothers.

Victor's grin spread, exposing his fangs as he said, "Oh, I'm sure you think you're safe with Jimmy here. Bet you don't have any idea what he's thinking right now, do you? What that smell you're giving off is doing to his control?"

Logan finally moved, pulling back his claws and whipping around, grabbing her by the arm and propelling her toward the mansion. "Go to bed, kid, we'll talk in the morning."

She knew that tone, that I'm-about-to-break-some-shit tone and she tried to yank her arm from his grip. He let her go, she knew, so she wouldn't hurt herself, and she spun to face him, poking a gloved finger into his chest. "I will not have you getting into a fight with him. You know better than to let him get under your skin just –"

She broke off with a strangled yelp when Logan reached out and wrapped one hand firmly around her throat, his fingers reaching nearly ear to ear. "You don't tell me what to do, little girl, you got me?" He waited until she nodded a little, then he used the grip on her neck to pull her to him and rubbed his cheek over her hair. "Now, get your ass to bed, ok, Creed and me need to have a talk." She wrapped one arm around his waist and rubbed her face against the wall of his chest, then walked away without another word, though she did look back a couple times. Each time, he was still standing there, watching, making sure she got up to the house.

When the door closed behind her, Logan turned on his booted heel and stalked back to Victor. "Creed. What the fuck do you think you're doing, skulking around in the dark?"

Having gotten comfortable on the log and helped himself to a beer, Victor just chuckled and took a swig. "What makes your claws itchy, Jimmy, me just being friendly with Stripes, or me smelling that _you_ wanna be a lot for than friends with Stripes?" He didn't flinch when Logan's claws popped out again, just took another drink. "You get that surge when you grabbed her? Got all that sweet spice rolling off her just from the feel of your hand on her neck. Mm, you know, I really should apologize for crashing that truck of yours in Laughlin City before you got a chance to show her what a male feral can really do to a hot little frail. I could smell her then, too, so young and already ready for a man, so ripe and fert–"

Before he could finish the word, Logan's claws had speared though the center of his chest, leaving him skewered on six adamantium spikes. He barely even flinched, just raised one massive hand and shoved at Logan, knocking him off balance and back several paces. He didn't press the advantage, however, just took another drink from his pilfered beer. Logan charged with furious growl and managed to get his claws unto Victor's belly before Victor brought his legs up to kick him back.

Logan landed with a heavy crash and lurched back to his feet. He charged yet again and Victor sighed and hurled the half-empty beer bottle. It smashed on Logan's adamantium skull, stunning him for a moment and leaving him dripping in Molson.

"Sit the hell down, Jimmy, I ain't going to fight you, I'm just trying to get a rise out of you. Not like Stripes didn't do that already."

Logan advanced with an angry snarl and Victor just waved the last beer bottle at him in a meaningful way. Logan scowled darkly but subsided onto his own log, picking up the beer Marie had been handing him when Victor arrived.

"Why don't you just go climb a tree, Creed," Logan growled. "Don't you got better ways to spend your nights than sneaking around the grounds and trying to piss me off?"

Victor blew out a breath and shook his head. "I don't have a frail like you, Jimmy."

"Logan."

"Jimmy. I don't have a frail waiting in my bed so I don't have any reason to spend the best part of the night in a house stuffed full of smelly kids. Wheels doesn't want me fucking my way through his girls, so it's better if I don't stay in there where I can hear 'em and smell 'em."

Though he hated to have anything in common with Creed, he grunted in acknowledgment. He didn't get the urge to lay his way through a horde of hormonal teenage girls, but he was pretty focused on one single girl, try though he had to ignore her like that. For Creed, without a particular one to focus on, he imagined the smells and sounds, very apparent Class Five ferals like the two of them, would be pretty frustrating. That didn't mean he was happy with Creed creeping around the grounds.

"So why don't you go find one, huh?"

Victor shook his head and took a pull from the bottle, "I ain't like you, Jimmy, happy with one frail, ready to mate and find a den and breed a litter of cubs." Logan's head whipped around and he stared at Victor.

"What, you think I can't tell what you two got? I've known you more than a century, Jimmy, I've never smelled Pack on one of your frails before."

Logan narrowed his eyes. "The fuck do you mean, Pack?"

"Shit, Pack, feral family bonds, what the hell do you think I mean?"

Logan stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head fiercely. "No, you're wrong."

"You're telling me Stripes ain't your Pack?"

Something close to guilt colored Logan's face and apparently his scent, judging by the way Victor took a deep breath. "I mean, yeah, I guess she's family, but…"

"Yeah, she is, been Pack since you picked her up in that bar. But you tried to keep it Pack like us, didn't you." It wasn't a question.

"Like us?" Logan wasn't exactly sure he wanted to go there.

"Brothers. Siblings. But you couldn't, not with her." Victor said softly.

Now he was _sure_ he didn't want to go there. "Shit, shut the hell up, we ain't gonna do this."

"Jimmy, Pack don't just go away. It ain't something you can run from, though you sure gave it a hell of a try. I still can't fuckin' believe you ran like hell from me for fifteen years then Stripes comes along and domesticates you in minutes. Turned you into her little lapdog in the time it took for you to drive a few yards down the road."

With a furious growl, Logan jumped at the bigger feral and knocked him on his back, claws at his throat. Under him, Victor let out a mocking laugh and asked, albeit a little breathlessly, "What were you thinking about before I stopped your truck, huh, Jimmy boy? Getting your claws on that pretty ivory skin of hers? Getting those lips around your cock? Mmm, she was so innocent and soft, you couldn't help but want to destroy her."

Logan's claws through his vocal cords stopped any more words but Victor still smirked up at him. Logan drew one hand back and delivered a massive blow to the asshole's head, fueled by rage and the weight of the adamantium. With a hollow thump, his fist connected and Victor's head snapped to the side. Logan swung of his limp body and stalked away, leaving his so-called brother on the damp ground

 _Mmmmm, Victor Creed, the_ _Liev Schreiber version, is one of the best cast characters ever, in my opinion. I hope you all enjoy him the way I do!_


	6. Chapter 6

_HI! So, I'm fully aware that none of you care, but I PASSED my Board of_ _Certification so pretty much, WHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Ok, I'm done. Here's the next chapter, more of a transition chapter than much else. It's not really my favorite, but the next one is pretty fun, so I'm willing to let this one go. Someone asked about Victor, if this was gonna be a "brotherly love" kinda story, and the answer is "no" ... ok, "no-ish". I have no intention of them moving into a house together or any of that, but they'll be on speaking terms soon. I'm sad if this annoys you, but I love Victor, so I'm sorry._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

Thank God the kitchen was empty when he stormed through. He had no more patience tonight to deal with kids or Scooter or anyone else who might get in his way tonight. He stopped long enough to snag a bottle of bourbon from his fridge and cracked the top as he climbed back stairs to the adults' wing. God bless alcohol.

The room he'd taken as his own was on the far end, farthest from the others, except Creed's, a strategic placement to keep the sensitive ferals from being inundated with the smells and sounds of the bratty kids and the other X-Men. Not that Creed spent much time in his room, prowling the grounds like the creepy fuck he was. Not the point, the damn point was right now, Logan couldn't give a damn if the other adults heard him as he walked down the hall, but no one stuck their heads out to butt into his business, so he didn't have to pull claws on anyone. He wouldn't have hesitated. When he walked past Marie's door, he could hear her shower going, so he paused for a second out of habit to hear what she was singing tonight.

There was no music tonight, no southern voice singing. All he could hear was the water running. For half a moment, he wondered if she was really in there since it was almost unheard of for her to shower and not sing. But, no, he could smell her. There was an urge for him to barge and demand to know why she wasn't singing, but _fucking hell_ , he didn't need to do anything else completely out of his range of normal tonight and he didn't trust himself around a wet and naked Marie just now.

As that image popped into his head, he cursed under his breath and took a deep pull from the bottle in his hand. Damn Creed for putting those memories in his head. Not like he already felt bad enough wanting her now, he didn't fucking need to remember the need he'd tried to bury when she'd been sixteen again, he thought, leaning his forehead against her door. When the shower clicked off, he had the irrational thought that she'd heard him thoughts, but no footsteps stomped across the room to the door, so he figured he was safe. Better not take chances, though, he decided, taking another drink. He shook his head and left her room, getting down to his own with no more pit stops. When the door closed behind him, he yanked off his flannel shirt and dragged his jeans off. The bottle splashed a little as he dropped heavily onto the mattress. The bedframe creaked alarmingly under his weight and he snarled at it to shut the hell up.

Within minutes, he'd managed to drain the bottle and had to break into his emergency stash of liquor he kept under the bed. Normally he didn't mix his alcohols, but at the moment, he just didn't give a damn.

The vodka burned as it went down his throat and he just closed his eyes. He wanted the alcohol to burn out the images Creed'd put in his head, but the more he drank, the more the images played. Christ, he hated, _fucking hated it_ that Creed was right, goddamn him, he'd wanted her for years. But he'd _never_ acted on it before today. Never touched her, even when he could smell the lust pouring off of her, not even that memorable night he'd dragged her from the after-after-graduation party in the firecracker's room when Marie'd been half naked and blind drunk and doing her level best to crawl under his clothes.

Try though he might, he couldn't help remembering that night now, the kid a newly minted eighteen and thinking she was all grown up. Shouldering his way into her new room on the adult floor with her slung over his shoulder and trying to dump her drunk ass on her little bed. Marie had clung like ivy, digging her naked fingers into his back. She'd taken the Cure bare weeks before and Logan could easily remember how she had taken full advantage, showing off skin she hadn't been able to in years. That night, she'd hung on tight when he'd tried to put her down, drunkenly asking him to stay with her, help her go to sleep. He'd tried to laugh past the sudden lump in his throat and told her she'd sleep it off better on her own. She'd whined and he'd sat down on the side of her bed, holding her and trying to pour a bottle of water down her throat.

As the alcohol burned down, he tried not to remember the way she'd smelled, the schnapps and SoCo combination she'd inexplicably drunk making her scent peaches-and-sunshine as she'd cuddled, warm and soft against his chest. When he'd tried to hold the water bottle to her lips, she'd turned away and managed to spill a good part of it down her chest. He hadn't even tried to mop her up, frankly not trusting his control, always tenuous when it came to her, that close to soft, bare, ivory skin,,. When she'd tried to use his flannel shirt to soak up the water, it had been the last straw and he stood, prying her off his chest and dumping her on the bed. The look Marie'd sent him was what he supposed to be a seductive kind of smile; she'd been a little too far gone to pull it off right but it had worked just fine on him. She'd still been talking in that slurred southern drawl, asking him to stay when he'd backed out, leaving her sprawled on the bed.

The image of how she'd looked there, her dark tangle of hair curling wildly around shoulders bare except the straps of her tank top, one she'd stolen from him, his tags draped over the edge of her shirt, was burned into his memory. At some point in her drunken dancing around the firecracker's room during the not-so-secret party, she'd managed to lose her pants and had clearly claimed some poor soul's boxers. He'd tried very hard not to smell them; he seriously didn't want to know who was running around the mansion without underwear. She'd twisted on the bedspread, her silky legs moving, calling to him. As he'd hastily backed out the door, he'd ordered her to bed. He was always ordering her to bed.

And always ordering himself away from her bed, damn it all to hell.

Laying on his own bed now, all those imaged played through his mind: the look of her innocence and bravery shining in her eyes the night she'd called out to him in that seedy bar in Laughlin City. The way she'd looked laying on the bed that night, drunk and asking without words for him to take her. The look of her in that ridiculous electric-blue bikini the firecracker had talked her into that first summer she could touch. In her uniform, bloody and sweaty from a rough fight. The way she'd looked and smelled today under him in the garage.

He covered his eyes to try to block out the images, but the kept coming. He was bombarded with the many memories of her, the many smells that were Marie and Rogue and the combination that just punched straight to his gut… He couldn't stop the erection that grew and he certainly couldn't stop his hand from sliding under the waistband of his boxers and closing around it. Once he'd done that, the alcohol in his blood convinced him that there was no problem in rubbing it, stroking it and imagining that it was her hand on him. When he finally came it was to an image of her on her knees sucking him dry, her name on his lips in a growl.

Laying on bed, he gasped for breath. Now he had a mess on his hands, _heh – mess on my hands_ , but he couldn't make himself care just now. What he needed now was to drain this bottle of vodka and try to get some sleep himself, and hope to God that he didn't dream of Marie. Without bothering to clean up more than peeling off his soiled clothes, Logan just rolled onto his belly and closed his eyes. Even as he drifted off, he knew his prayers for a quiet night wouldn't be answered. He'd figured out a long time ago that God, the Universe, and his own subconscious took sadistic pleasure in torturing him.

* * *

 _I hope you all sort of enjoyed this chapter. Like I said at the top, it's not my favorite, but I needed a way to get Logan out of clothes for the next chapter. I also enjoyed the mental image of a first-time drunk Marie over Logan's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then trying to convince him to stay and lay with her while he backs away like she's a red-hot coal. It makes me chuckle. Thanks for reading, please, let me know what you're thinking!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Hi, guys, I hope everyone's having a nice day. Here's the next chapter, where we first get to meet my version of the Wolverine. I've gotten him written in **bold,** so don't be freaked out. In the first couple paragraphs, you'll see why Logan needed to be naked at the end of the last chapter. Enjoy!_

* * *

The morning dawned too damn early for her taste, but a naked Marie rolled out of bed anyway, fumbling for a shirt. Brushing her teeth, she looked down at what she'd put on: one of Logan's flannel shirts that she'd stolen years ago. With a wry chuckle, she glanced around her room, noting that most of the shirts she used as "robes" were Logan's. Poor guy was probably missing half of his wardrobe. Feeling friendly, she changed into jeans and a plain T-shirt and scooped up an armload of his shirts. She carried them down to his room and walked right in, used to him being up and down in the Danger Room with his first class by now.

The first clue that Logan hadn't gotten his habitual early start this morning was a bare, heavily muscled male back and one startlingly pale buttock and leg gleaming in the morning sunlight. Her shocked and appreciative eyes traveled over the display, lingering interestedly on the tantalizingly dark place between his legs juuuuust barely covered by the twisted sheet. His sleep must have been a little disturbed by her entrance and he shifted, the sheet sliding further off and exposing more of the bitable ass she'd only ever seen denim-covered. She couldn't even begin to contain the astonished laugh that bubbled out of her. As the sound, a rumpled-haired Logan bolted upright and shot straight out of bed, claws sprung and ready for action. Unfortunately for him, the sheet that was desperately trying to protect his privacy wrapped around his legs and sent him sprawling. The exposed claws cut deep gauges in the floorboards and his bare ass flexed in a manner she could only describe as "aggravated".

Marie stared at the sight, her hands pressed firmly to her mouth to keep any more laughter in. He wouldn't appreciate it in the least. After a moment of strained silence, his voice rumbled up from the floor.

"Kid?"

"Yes, Logan?" Her voice was squeaky with repressed laughter.

"Get the fuck out!"

She started violently and leaped backward out of the still open door, slamming it closed before she collapsed in the hall, howling with laughter. When he shoved the door open a few minutes later, hair damp and spiky, she just looked up at him from the floor, eyes dancing, face flushed. His scowl spoke volumes but he didn't say anything, just reached down a hand for her. She grasped it and he hauled her up with enough force to send her stumbling her down the hallway in front of him. When she looked back over her shoulder, he was advancing with a black expression.

As he started towards her, Marie let out small, involuntary shriek and sprinted off down the hall. The Wolverine's predatory instincts kicked in and before he knew what he was doing, he was pounding down the hall in pursuit, his hazel eyes gone molten gold.

 **She was quick on her feet, his feisty kit, much faster than him, weighed down with a metal skeleton as he was. If she tapped into some of her borrowed powers, she'd be that much faster but he knew she wasn't thinking like that just now. All she knew was that there was a big, dangerous male chasing her and she had to escape, all instinct and reactions. There was fear in her scent, as well there should be, but he could tell it was more primitive fear of being chased rather than acute fear he'd harm her; even running from him, she knew he'd never hurt her.**

 **She ran down the stairs and out of the kitchen door, making a break for the estate grounds. The Wolverine smiled grimly. Of course she'd run for the outdoors, he expected no less from his mate. He slowed a little, letting her increase the distance between them; the chase was always more rewarding when the prey though it had a fighting chance. When he burst into the kitchen, the other adults the man worked with were all staring at the still-swinging door and he knew his mate had just pelted through.**

 **As he followed her out, the one with the single red eye called the man's name, his scent full of anger and concern, presumably for the safety of the Wolverine's mate. The Wolverine shot the one-eye'd one a furious snarl; did he really think he'd hurt his own mate? But his mate was running, waiting for him to chase her, catch her, and there was no time to teach the interfering human his mistake.**

 **As soon as he stepped outside, he could smell her, anxiety and that smoky musk both he and the man recognized as the kit's arousal. The tantalizing combination led away from the clipped and false nature of the immediate grounds into the woods that encircled the humans' dwelling. He took off after that scent trail, deep into the forest. When he came to a small clearing, her smell took a sharp turn. He turned with her and followed the new path. They were far enough from the dwelling now that he increased his speed. It was time to catch his female.**

 **His kit was fast but she was no feral, even with her borrowed senses; she was not trying any tricks to mislead him or cover her tracks. Predator that he was, knowing the land around the buildings, it was no trouble to cut the distance between them with every second. Soon enough, he could hear her. She was trying to run on the soft mossy areas, avoiding the brittle underbrush but she couldn't muffle her breathing or, he could hear as he closed the gap, the furious pounding of her heart.**

 **Then he could see her, her hair wild, her coverings ripped in places. There were trails of blood on her shoulders and arms from the branches and brambles and sweat ran over her skin. As he closed in, the smell of her blood hit him, coppery and spicy and he let out a growl. Her head whipped around and she spotted him, her eyes widening in alarm as how close he was and the glowing gold of his eyes. She tried to increase her pace but she missed a step and she went sprawling.**

 **Heh, he had her now! The kit pushed off her belly and turned over, only to find him feet from her. When she tried to scramble up but her feet slipped on the wet forest floor and she sprawled back down into the muck. Before she can try it again, he leapt for her with a roar, tackling her and using his weight to hold her immobile. Her little claws dug into his hide and she tried to shove him off of her, but her female strength was no match for his muscle and weight. He used both his hands to catch hers and dragged her arms over her head. The position forced her body to arch under his.**

 **The scent of her was overpowering and he plunged his face into the curve of her throat, licking and scraping at her delicate skin. She twisted her hands in his, trying to get away. To punish his disobedient mate, he sunk his teeth into the tight muscle at the base of her lovely neck, tasting her blood and marking her. When she cried out, he slammed his mouth down on hers, drinking in her noises and sharing her taste. The furious kit bit his lip with her sharp teeth, drawing blood in return. He growled into her mouth in pleasure: it was right for his mate to mark him back.**

 **Wolverine lifted his head and stared down at his little mate, her lips swollen and red, a small amount of her blood on her neck from his mark; she panted under his weight and watched him warily. He dipped his head again and nuzzled at his mark, licking at the blood. His mate moaned a little and he rumbled back at her.**

 **Against her throat, he growled, "Such a good little Mate, sweet little Mate of mine."**

 **She made a small, helpless sound. "Wolverine?"**

 **He brought his head up so he could look into her eyes with his golden ones. She watched him with a small smile and tugged gently on her captured wrists. He squeezed tightly before he released her, to let her know he let go because he choose to. Big hands moved to her hips, tugging her to better cradle his body. He rubbed her body with his and gave a hard thrust when she gasped. Took his mouth on a journey of her exposed skin, licking at the traces of blood and sweat, taking nips at particularly soft spots, returning over and over to the ones that make her squeak or made her fingers clench in his hair.**

 **Calloused hands moved over her curves and dips, hard enough that it made his mate make tiny whimpers of pleasure-pain. The peat-smoke scent grew richer as her body dampened. It wasn't long before his hands were pulling and tugging at her coverings, wanting to reach the soft, yielding flesh. The already-ripped coverings gave easily under his hands and the rending sound made his mate gasp. Those breathless little sounds inflamed him more and the smell of her was pushing him to his limits. He slid his claws out, aiming to get her bare under his hands.**

" **Wolverine, we can't…" His growl drowned out her protest and he crushed his lips to hers to silence her. She managed to pull away and drag in a breath. "I'm sorry, Wolverine, you know you can't do this… If you take this, he'll never let you out, he'll never trust you with me."**

 **His expression was dangerous. "I'd never hurt you." His voice lowered to a timbre she felt her bones as he added with a nip on her ear, "Not more than you deserve, anyway, little Mate."**

 **Her scent rose sharply, the shining eyes clouding with razor-edged desire, then she softened and nuzzled his throat. "I know, sugar, I trust you." When he inhaled at the little licks on his throat, she murmured, "I've always trusted you." She dragged her nails gently through his wild hair and he purred just a little against her throat. "But he doesn't trust you, not with me, not yet. Please, I don't want to never see you again, don't make him close you out. Don't make me lose you, I can't take that."**

 **He dropped his forehead to hers in a familiar gesture that made her smile. After a pause so long she didn't think he'd reply, he ground out, "For you, Mate."**

" **For us, Wolverine." She kissed him again, and felt the moment the Wolverine pulled back and Logan stepped forward.**

* * *

I hope you enjoyed your first exposure to Wolverine. Smut is coming, I promise, but not for a little while longer. Don't worry, eventually Logan will get more than a little left-hand-love :)


	8. Chapter 8

_Hi, you lovey people, you! Hope you all enjoyed the previous chapter, it's kind of fun whenever we get to play with Wolverine, right? But Logan is fun too, so I hope to have a way to play with them both later! How do we feel about threesomes, huh? :D_

 _Now, here, enjoy misplaced-anger-Logan._

* * *

The kiss that had been deep and rough lightened then slowed; he raised his head and his hazel gaze searched her green one. He started to smile at her rumpled hair and swollen lips, but his nostrils flares and his eyes darkened at the blood on her lips, neck, and arms. One of his hands came up and cupped her chin, fingers gripping hard as he tipped her head this way and that.

"Did he fuckin' do that?!" His voice was a whiplashing dangerous snarl and her eyes widened and she tried to shake her head.

"No, Log–"

"God fucking damn it, that fucking animal!"

"Ok, Logan, just hang on, he didn't hurt me, alright? It's just a little nip, it's fine…"

"Christ, don't lie to me, Marie, I can see the fucking _teeth marks_!"

He jumped off her and hauled her to her feet, tipping her face away so he could get a good look at the mark on her neck. His fingers were like iron on her jaw but she could feel the way he was keeping himself in check to keep from hurting her. After a long moment, he dropped his hands away like they'd been burned.

While she watched, he prowled away, scowling and growling. She arched her brows when his claws _snicked_ out and he slammed them into the trunk of a tree. "Shit, sugar, why don't you show me how you really feel?" Angry with himself, she knew, for letting his feral side out and hurting her, letting it spill into anger with her.

He spun on his heel and advanced on her, using his size to herd her until her back smacked into another tree. "Yeah, why don't I? 'Cause you can fuckin' handle it, can't you? You're the big, bad Rogue, you think you can handle the Wolverine? Well, come on, Rogue, handle me." With a shove, he slammed her against the trunk.

The move surprised her and her eyes narrowed. Push her around, would he? She flicked her skin on and pulled on his borrowed powers, snapping out a pair of delicate bone claws. When her claws slid out, Logan smiled darkly and stepped back, beckoning her to come at him. She snarled and leapt, aiming the claws for the broad target of his chest. Before she had a chance to connect, he caught her arms and swung her, tossing her yards away to land on her back. Springing to her feet, she watched him as he stalked toward her, his own claws out.

Fury boiled around him and her borrowed senses let her smell the acrid scent of it, but she knew it wasn't truly aimed at her. He was furious he'd let the Wolverine hurt her, in his mind; he'd never been good at focusing his anger and she wasn't really surprised he was taking it out on her. Luckily, with his healing factor turned on, she'd have no trouble surviving anything he threw at her. But he'd hate if he ended up hurting her later, so her best chance of keeping him from torturing himself was to take him down fast, before she had to use his factor. With that in mind, she reached for her gloves.

He watched her as he stalked her across the clearing, tasting her scent. The kid looked like she was deciding how best to attack, which was reasonable, considering the discrepancy in their sizes and weights. When she started trying to discreetly peel her gloves off, he struck. Before she could manage to bare her hands, he was on her, dragging her arms behind her body and trapping her wrists with his own hands. Using his greatly superior size, he muscled her backwards.

It was all Marie could do to stay on her feel as he propelled her back. Because he was so much taller than she was, he had to lean far down to keep her wrists confined; the awkward position forced her face into his chest. Marie took advantage and opened her mouth and bit him hard through his shirt. He snarled and caged both her wrists in one hand, fisting the other in her hair, yanking her head back, dragging her mouth from his chest.

With her eyes stinging form the pain, he was able to spin her around, still trapping her wrists. He forced her forward until the side of her face was smashed against the rough bark of the tree he'd skewered earlier. Letting go of her hair, he dragged at his belt with one hand. She spit and cursed him as he looped the belt around her arms from elbow to wrist, trapping her arms behind her, her gloves still on. Now he was safe from a sneak attack with her mutation.

Her hair, the chestnut and platinum, was tangled and wild and he couldn't help but wrap on fist in it, cupping her skull, pressing her face harder against the bark. Her gasp pulled a rumble from his chest.

With her hands tied behind her back, she was almost completely helpless, physically, but he knew that his girl had a mean way with her boots, so he roughly kicked her feet apart. Kept her arched and spread to force her entirely off balance. He pressed his advantage by crowding her against the tree with his body, forcing her bound arms down so they pressed to his stomach. She hand no movement range, so she kept flicking the bone claws in and out, puncturing his abdomen and thighs with every _snick_. When her claws came too close to a very important part of his anatomy, he yanked hard on her hair.

"Sheath those claws, kid, before you spear something neither of us wants to lose." She snarled back at him and tried to lunge back to skewer him. He growled and lifted her a few inches off the ground, forcing her weight to rest on the bound arms against his body. The tactic forced a cry out of her and she yanked the claws in. He pushed his chest harder to her arms and she whimpered.

Her scent flashed painfully but there was still more fiery anger than muddy pain, both of which were nearly drowned out by her smoky arousal, the heavy scent that clouded his senses and kept him running hot. "Now the skin, little girl. Turn it off and I let you go."

She nodded jerkily and muttered, "It's off."

"You're fucking lying again, kid, I know it's still on, I can feel the buzz."

Her breath hissed out in surprise. She'd never known he could feel when it was turned on. If it felt to him like it felt to her, it must be like the humming of electricity through a wire, maybe a crackle on the plane his feral senses worked. But that was a question for another time. Now, she just focused on the buzz of her mutation and flicked it off.

Immediately Logan dropped her back to the ground, letting the pressure off her arms and giving her a few inches to breathe. "Good girl," he breathed against her neck. His breath blew over the raw bite on her neck and she shuddered and made a tiny sound of shocked pleasure. Logan lifted away and stared down at her in surprise. His eyes narrowed and he reached one hand up to drag a finger over the wound.

She cried out, he thought with pain for a moment, but her scent was hot and sweet with pleasure. He arched his brows and dropped his head to press his lips to the wound. This time, she made a sound he'd only heard from her when she ate dark chocolate, a sensual, sinful moan dragged from her chest as she quivered under his touch. He licked at the rough wound and blood, and she quaked.

Logan pulled away and stared down at her. Marie craned her head to look up at him, only to find him glaring down at the mark. "What's wrong, Logan?"

He moved his eyes to meet her gaze. "What the hell _is_ this? What the fuck did he do to you?"

Marie moved her shoulders the half inch of wiggle room she had. "He just bit me, there was nothing weird about it… You don't have any sort of venom, do you?"

He glowered at her but shook his head, refocusing on her neck. "I've never seen anything like it… Turn on the factor for a second," he ordered. She turned on the healing factor borrowed from him and he watched the scrapes on her face, arms, and chest heal, fade, and completely disappear. The wound on her neck healed up and faded to a rosy scar, but stopped there. "More," he demanded.

Marie told him, "It's still on, sugar."

He could smell that she was telling the truth and he snarled and slid one claw an inch out. "Hold still, kid." With that, he dragged the tip of the claw over the mark, careful to just barely break the skin. When he sliced the mark, she let out a scream that had him yanking his hand away from her neck and calling her name in alarm. Spice and sweetness flooded the air; he stared at her in amazement. Her forehead was resting against the bark, her hands on his stomach clenched tightly, her breath coming in quick pants, her cheeks damp and flushed. He moved his head so he could meet her eyes, amusement warring with concern in his voice as he asked her, " _Fucking hell…_ Did you just come, kid?"

She stared at him, just as astonished as he was. She couldn't get enough breathe to respond verbally, just nodded shakily. He stroked a hand over her hair to help bring her back down and she shuddered. Logan pressed his jaw to her cheek, stroked her skin with his stubble, taking care to avoid the scar on her throat. Eventually her breathing evened out and she bumped his chin with her head. "What in sweet hell was _that_?!"

"I have no fuckin' clue, darlin'." He stepped back, all his previous anger drained away. The shift in his weight caused her arms to jolt and she yelped. He cursed, forgetting that her arms were still bound behind her. "Here, baby, hang on," he said, sliding a claw out.

She jerked away, stumbling to face him, hiding her arms behind her. He arched a brow. "Kid?"

"I just…" She flushed a little, cleared her throat and continued, "I don't want you to cut it off."

He narrowed his eyes, trying to read her expression. She lowered her chin and looked up at him through her lashes. "Well, you took the time to wrap me up, I kind of want you to take the time to unwrap me…"

A smile curled his lips and he reached for her shoulders, tugging her up against his chest. She tipped her face up to smirk at him. He lowered his head to touch his lips to hers, but Marie pulled back suddenly. Eyes narrowed, she focused on the spot of blood on his mouth.

"I bit him, I forgot…"

Logan raised his hand and touched the spot. When he brushed the spot, his eyes widened in surprise and he took a little breath. For a moment, he just stared into space, contemplating things. Then he asked her, "It's healed?"

Marie moved her head forward, studying the place where she'd bitten the Wolverine. On Logan's lower lip, there was a white scar against the red margin. She couldn't help but stare, she'd never seen a scar on his flawless skin before.

"Marie…"

She blinked and looked back at him. "Yes, sugar, but…there's a scar."

His eyebrow shot up and he looked at her consideringly. "Wonder it it'll have the same effect for me as for you…" With that, he dipped down and took her lips in a warm, slow kiss, licking hers for entrance. After a moment, he lifted his head and met her eyes, his eyes so hot she was surprised she didn't steam where he looked.

"Fuck, yeah, baby, it's just like yours." His voice was a low, rough growl.

He took her mouth again, sucking her lip, sliding his tongue over it, pressing for entrance. When she moaned and opened her mouth, he slid his tongue in, tasting her sweetness, playing with hers, twining his around it then tugging away to entice her tongue to follow back into his mouth. As he let her have control of the kiss, he slid his hands down to her wrists and began to unwind the belt. He took his time, loosening the loops and sliding them down her arms, stroking the soft skin as he went, savoring the way she shivered under his touch. Not to mention the blistering heat that her mouth was fanning from that little scar on his lip.

Finally all the belt was loosened except the buckle strapped still cinched around her wrists, though the rest of her arms were free so she could bend them now. He gripped the free length and tugged. Body bowed back, Marie broke the kiss and scowled up at him. Spitfire, his Marie.

Logan knocked his forehead to hers, then dropped his lips to hers for a short kiss. "Sorry, darlin', I just like the idea of you having to keep those busy hands of your still." A sharp nip on his lower lip made him gasp then chuckle. "'s that a smart thing do when I still got you tied up, little girl?"

Green fire burned in her eyes. He just smirked at her and held the belt lower for a moment, forcing her back just a bit more then he relented and freed her hands. Quick as a little snake, she swung a fist as his stomach. Feeling he deserved it a little, he let her land the punch. He wasn't, however, expecting her to pull on Piotr's power, and took a metal fist to the belly, knocking him back a few steps. The tree was clearly still annoyed about being stabbed and one of the roots tripped him up, sending him sprawling on his ass. Marie didn't even bother to gloat, just smirked and offered him a hand back up.

"You're a little sneaky, you know that, kid?" he asked as he climbed to his feet.

"I learned from the best, sugar." He smirked at her and tugged her around, stripping off his flannel shirt and bundling her into it, then propelled her in the direction of the school.

They walked close, arms brushing, her head ducked. The little sounds she was making gave him a moment of concern before he realized she was laughing. One of his hands shot out and snagged one of her wrists. He used his grip to pull her closer to his side as they walked and rubbed his hand over her arm. Under her sleeve, his sensitive fingers picked up the indentations that the leather of the belt made. When he squeezed her wrist where the belt had tightened, Marie inhaled sharply. He sniffed the air, expecting to smell a flash of pain. What he got was a hot rush of arousal that shot his eyebrows up to his hairline.

"Damn, kid…"

Marie huffed out a small, self-deprecating laugh and tried to tug her wrist free, not meeting his eyes. He kept hold of her, peeling her glove down her wrist to expose the red band from the belt. The buckle had left clear indentations on the side of her wrist.

Logan's rumbling growl made her turn to look at him. He was probably pissed about marking her, he always got growly when she got beat up in the Danger Room. Probably gonna make her turn on his factor again to erase the marks. What she saw on his face was not the annoyance she'd expected. Instead, his eyes were hot and intense on the marks. As she watched, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to the red dents. Rubbed his tongue over her skin.

Her pulse pounded under his lips and he wanted so bad to bite that pulse point, he could almost taste her. Giving in just a bit, he scrapped his teeth over that spot where the blood rushed. He had to take his mouth away before he caved completely.

Marie stood silent and still. She didn't want to startle him or scare him off, and she could feel that he was still on edge from earlier. He was never at ease after the Wolverine came out. Moving gently, she put her hand on his shoulder. Stroked her hand up into his hair. For a few moments, they stood like that, each reaching for the other.

The shriek of the kids on the lake jerked them from the quiet moment. Logan nipped at her wrist and stood straight, pulling her to his side with an arm slung over her shoulder. For the rest of the walk back to the school, neither of them spoke a word.

* * *

 _I hope you all liked it, please, let me know what you think, anything you like/don't like/hated/loved/didn't understand? Hit me up, I'd love to hear from any one of you! Feel free to PM me if you want a response, I have nothing to do but talk to you lovely people!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Hi, everyone! I'm glad most everyone seemed to enjoy the last chapter. Personally I have a thing for belts, so I'm sure his belt will come up again, thus why I didn't have him cut it off. This chapter and the next one or two are gonna be a little slow, I'm just trying to work up to a little smut in a few chapters. What's our opinion of blowjobs?_

 _Also, I just posted a quick 2k blip with a little bit of smut, because you all have been so sweet in waiting. It's called Hour 67 and it truly just for smut, don't expect any plot. Enjoy!_

* * *

Logan had planned to shuffle Marie right upstairs once they were inside, ostensibly to let her grab a shower; in reality, he wanted badly to avoid having any sort of discussion with Scott. While what the Wolverine had done with Marie was frustratingly fuzzy in his memory, the snarling at Scott was very clear. It had probably not been well received. Not that he gave a good goddamn, but he didn't want Marie to have to deal with any trouble from the pompous asshat. And he _especially_ didn't want to hear any comments on Marie's bedraggled appearance or why she was wearing his shirt.

But luckily for everyone, when the two of them walked into the kitchen, it was devoid of adults. In fact, the only occupants were several teenage boys who were supposed to be in Logan's morning Danger Room session. Since their teacher hadn't shown up, the boys had felt safe grabbing a mid-morning snack. The sudden rough and rumpled appearance of Logan sent the boys scattering. His instinct was to give chase, but he had more important things to focus on right now, namely Marie.

"Here, kid, sit." He nudged her toward a chair at the scarred breakfast table and grabbed a box of donuts from his fridge. He plunked it down in front of her.

"What, no coffee?"

His hot glare would have sent a lesser woman fleeing like those boys had. Marie just gave him his own raised eyebrow look and a small smirk. With a gusty sigh, he got two cups down from the cabinet. Even doctored hers up the way she liked, dumping in the flavored cream she liked, the he let her hide in his fridge. He shook his head. Whipped, he thought with a wry twist of lips, the kid had him tap-dancing around for her. Not that he minded. He loved her, after all. She was Pack.

That thought, the Pack idea, had him glaring as he sat down next to her. Marie picked up the cup in front of her, wanting a hit of warm caffeine to settle her nerves. Before she could drink, the cup was plucked from her fingers. "Mine. Here." He replaced the stolen cup with another. When she raised this one, she smiled at its creamy color.

There was silence for a time as they drank. After a few minutes, Logan set his cup down on the table and faced her. "Marie." She looked up; he wasn't usually so serious.

She set her own cup down. "Logan."

"We gotta talk about it all, kid. I know we were going to work out then go get drunk, but I'm not sure that's really such a great plan now."

"Well, I think the getting drunk plan still sounds pretty good," she replied, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

He grunted a laugh. "Hell yeah, it does. But, kid…" He trailed off and Marie just watched him, no idea what he was thinking. Finally he looked back at her and his eyes gleamed, a wash of green over amber. "Marie, darlin', I'm the best there is at what I do, but what I do isn't very nice."

Marie burst out laughing, earning herself a dark glower. "What, is that the Wolverine version of 'it's not you, it's me'? Oh, come on, now, Logan, you can't think that's gonna make me run."

A heavy hand snaked out to grip her wrist. "Hell, no, I don't want you to run. We – I'm not gonna fuckin' let you run now." The slick gush of dampness between her legs flooded the kitchen with her scent and his fingers tightened on her. "Fuck, little girl, how wild do you want me?"

She twisted her wrist slowly in his grip, watching his face. When she spoke, she was all honey-dipped steel. "I want you, and I want the Wolverine. However wild that is, sugar, that's what I need from you."

"Damn it, Marie, the factor's not healing that mark and I don't know what the hell that means!" Anger and something akin to accusation rang in his voice.

The Rogue never did take kindly to being accused of something that wasn't her fault and she yanked her wrist out from his fingers. "Hey, it's not my fault your feral half wanted to take a chunk out of me!"

Hazel eyes glimmered with gold and Marie knew she was facing both of them. "If you didn't smell so damn good, I wouldn't wanna sink my teeth into you!" As soon he's spoken, the gold faded, only to be replaced with horror before her startled eyes. "Shit, kid –"

She waved her hand to brush it off for the moment, then gestured to his face. "My bite's not healing on you either, so I don't think it's anything Wolverine did on purpose, sugar. Maybe Hank might have some information –" She broke off in shock as Logan shot to his feet, sending his now-empty cup skittering across the table. As she watched, stunned by his sudden action, he glanced over his shoulder at the door to the main hall, then strode for the outside door. It slammed behind him as he disappeared from the kitchen.

Marie was still sitting in the kitchen, nonplussed over the bizarre interlude when Jubilee came pelting in. Her sparkling best friend skidded to a stop at the sight of Marie sitting at the table. "Roguey! What are you doing _here?_ " Sparkly and _piercing_ , Marie thought a little uncharitably.

"What, Jubes, am I suddenly not allowed to have coffee and doughnuts in the kitchen anymore?"

"Scott has been yelling that Wolvie was going to kill you! He and Jean are in with the Professor right now, trying to convince him that Wolvie snapped and was chasing you and was going to gut you or something!" She wound down a little and dropped into Logan's vacated chair with a huff. "Bitch."

Marie cocked her eyebrow. "Who, me?"

Jubilee grinned at her and poked around in the doughnut box, no doubt looking for her favorite, yellow peach ginger cake with sprinkles. Marie watched her face fall; Logan didn't go in for those "chick candy cakes", he was more of a bear claw, plain chocolate cake, maybe the occasional jelly filled, kind of man. "No, Jean, for being in on this. And Scott, now I think of it. Sure, 'bitch' isn't usually something I'd call the Fearless Leader but what the hell is wrong with him, racketing around the mansion, yelling that Wolvie was going to kill you?" She finally selected a cinnamon sugar twist from the box and bit in, continuing around her full mouth, "I wonder what he smoked this morning; must have been pretty good to give him those kind of hallucinations. Hmm, I wonder if he'd share."

Marie gurgled out a laugh around a bite of her own doughnut at Jubilee's irreverent critique of Scott. "Jubes!"

"What? No one in their right mind would ever think Wolvie would hurt you, chica, so I can only assume that he was stoned. Actually, his description of "gold, burning eyes" sounds more like a bad trip. I wonder where he got acid around here..."

When Marie didn't respond, Jubilee finally looked up from her doughnut. Marie looked away but she could feel Jubilee's eyes on her face, searching. Looking for clues.

"Roguey…?"

Marie winced and lifted her head. "Yes, Jubes?" she replied, putting every ounce of innocence she could muster into the words.

"What was Scott talking about, 'gold eyes'-wise? Wolvie doesn't have gold eyes." Her own dark eyes were narrowed on Marie, watching for any weakness. Sometimes Marie forgot that the sparkly sugar coating hid a tough and clever mind.

There was no hope for it, after all she'd have to tell Jubilee sooner or later and it would be better all-around if she got Jubilee's support from the get-go. She took a breath. Cleared her throat. "Well, Logan doesn't have gold eyes… but, ah, the Wolverine does…"

A moment of silence stretched out. When she looked back at Jubilee, her friend was staring, wide-eyes and slack-jawed. Well that was something at least; it wasn't often Jubilee had nothing to say.

Of course, the silence didn't last long. "What?!" Marie winced at the earsplitting shriek. "Are you telling me that he just chose to let the Wolverine out today? Like, Logan just woke up and thought, 'Oh, well, it's Thursday, I think I'll let my feral animal side scamper around this morning, maybe see if he wants to go play with Rogue, that'll be fun. Oh, yeah, good, let's chase her around the mansion, that won't cause any problems.' What was he _thinking_? What were _you_ thinking? Good God, he has _claws_ , chica, those _scare_ people!"

Marie blinked at the rant, fighting the inappropriate urge to break out in a fit of giggles at the "chase her around the mansion" comment, delivered in a credible imitation of Logan's growl. "For God's sake, Jubes!"

"Well, come on! If you three want to play perverted sex games, you really need to plan them better. At least try to avoid the kitchen at breakfast time, I mean, really, Roguey, have I taught you nothing? He's a feral, he's probably going to want to do it outside all the time, you just need to make sure you get him out before Fearless and the Ice Queen come down. Maybe it's time for Wolvie to talk to the Professor about fixing up that caretaker's cabin again…"

Marie gaped at her, trying to sort through the rapid-fire thoughts. "Perverted sex games…The three of us? What caretaker cabin?"

"You, Wolvie, and the Wolverine, chica, stay with me here. I think those two are gonna be pretty wild. That old one on the other side of the lake that's just a little too far to be an easy loveshack."

"Uh-huh, right… And doing it outside?"

"Well, that's where he goes when he's happy or sad or needs to blow off steam or take time for himself, so I figure that's where he's going to want to take you all the time. Something to do with fresh air and maple trees, I'm sure. Feral he might be, but he's Canadian to the core."

Again, Marie had to consider that Jubilee was more perceptive that most people gave her credit for. Nodding, she took a deep drink of her now-cold coffee. "So, you didn't believe that Logan was going to hurt me?"

"Pfft," was Jubilee's opinion of that. "If he wanted you dead, he would never have given you his healing factor. And if he'd changed his mind and decided he'd prefer you dead, I figure he'd have done it upstairs without any witnesses, just stab you in your sleep. Not like you don't sleep like the dead. I'm fairly certain Wolvie and 'Tooth could go claw-to-claw in your bedroom and not wake you up."

"O…kay. So… Let's go back to those perverted sex games."

Jubilee gave a lusty laugh. "Yes, please! So, how long have you been banging Wolvie and for God's sake, _why_ haven't you told me about it?! Details, Rogue, I demand details!"

"Shhh!" Marie hushed her. "No, it's not – we haven't – Jubes, will you be quiet?!" She flapped her hands at her friend, who was still chortling.

"I'm sorry, chica! You just look so flustered. So, I guess you haven't let Wolvie stick his…claws…in you yet, huh? I mean, he's got nine inches of adamantium, girl, and I'm not talking about the claws this time! At least, I _hope_ I mean more than his claws!" Her smile was a mile wide and her wink made little sparks pop around the kitchen.

Marie felt herself flushing even as she snorted out a laugh. "Damn, Jubes, just jump on in!"

"So that's a no?" Jubilee asked with a smirk.

"No, Christ, we just started this, I haven't seen… Look, can we take this upstairs? The kitchen is not always as deserted as we might like." Jubilee chuckled and scooted her chair back.

"Come on, chica, I need, need, _need_ details, and you," she added, "look like you could use a shower." She picked a twig out of Marie's hair. Brushed some leaves off her shoulder. Froze with her hand clamped on Marie's shoulder. "Roguey, why do you have a bite mark on your neck?"

Marie shrugged her hand off and reached up to cover the mark. When her fingers brushed it, she braced herself for a shock of vicious pleasure, the way it had been with Logan earlier. But there was no spike of painful arousal, just a gentle pulse of heat.

"That's one of the details I've got to tell you about. Come on."

* * *

 _Jubilee always makes me smile. She's a good friend to Rogue and she has absolutely no inhibitions at all, so she makes a nice sounding board for Rogue and Wolverine's more kinky exploits. :) Let me know what you're thinking, if there's anything you do or don't want to see?_


	10. Chapter 10

_Hi, you lovely folks, you! Here's another, slower-ish chapter. Sorry for those who don't like Victor, he's gonna pop up again. Be brave. To make up for the boring nature of this one and probably the next one or two, I've published another quick one-shot called "Three's Not Company, It's Fun". I hope you might read and review, maybe if people like it, I can sort of incorporate something similar in this story. Or if we hate it, I'll know to avoid anything like that... Whichever, please, let me know!_

* * *

Jubilee had hit the nail on the head when it came to Logan and his affinity for the outdoors. When he'd fled the kitchen, he'd gone for the woods again, unintentionally ending up at the clearing where he'd come to his senses after that Wolverine episode with Marie. Taking a seat on a fallen log, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wanting to taste the air of the forest. The cool of moss and deep shade. The fecund scent of vegetation on the fertile ground. He got those, but he got a nosefull of Marie, too. Her rain-and-smoke smell was soaked in the forest's fecund ripeness.

His eyes closed. He'd been too upset, wondering what the Wolverine had done to her to notice the smell. Later, he'd just assumed her arousal was from him inspecting the mark on her throat. But now, he was just sitting here in a pool of her scent, clearly inspired by whatever the Wolverine had done or said to her.

How could she stand to be around him, he marveled. Grown men trained in battle had cowered before the unleashed Wolverine, but his girl had faced him down, had even been turned on by him? That was something that had never happened before… _Fuck_ , he wished he could remember what had happened. What had the Wolverine done that had made his girl so hot? And what was that mark on her neck, the one on his lip? He'd never come across a wound his healing factor couldn't heal. Even her borrowed version of it should have taken care of something so simple in a few seconds.

A snarl worked its way out of his throat. He'd let his girl get hurt on his watch, worse, he'd bene the one to hurt her. Then his power wasn't enough to fix her.

"Damn, Jimmy, you fucked Stripes out here? Thought you were all about cuddling your little frail."

Creed. Just what he fucking needed, that sadistic asshole. A split second after he registered Creed's arrival, he remembered his brother was a feral and could smell the potent female heat that still hung in the air.

The Wolverine in his head leapt and lunged at the end of the chain, snapping and snarling. **Feral male, he's going to take the kit before you let us have her. Kill him, take him down and he won't be a danger to her or us ever again.** Logan growled and tried to focus on the Wolverine in his head, trying to remind him that Creed was his brother, much as he hated that fact. **Doesn't matter, we know what he is and he knows what she is to us. We've made the first mark on her, she's vulnerable. If we don't finish the claiming, he'll take her, rape her, kill her. Kill him and go to her** _ **now!**_

The thought of Marie, broken and bleeding under Creed snapped Logan's tenuous control on the Wolverine. Hazel eyes burned gold as he surged to his feet in a rush of metal and muscle. Claws out, he sprung at Creed. Fueled by fury and fear, he took the bigger man down in a thunderous crash. Creed's claws dug deep into his arms, clinking against the metal bones, but still Logan didn't stop his attack.

The raw power of the unleased Wolverine was enough to overpower the unwary Creed. Logan's claws slid smoothly into Creed's chest, a direct hit to his heart. There was no hesitation in the adamantium blades as they gashed Creed's chest open. Poised to slice out his heart. The Wolverine in Logan's head was roaring, demanding that he drag the claws through the bastard bleeding on the ground.

But Creed wasn't fighting back. Though his claws were still dug down to bone, he wasn't paring muscle from metal. Logan lifted his head and looked his brother. Creed lay on his back, head tipped down; not submissive, but not aggressive. There was no danger in his scent, just something that reeked of condescension and the man pulled back a little; this wasn't how Creed was known to act.

 **He's lying, he's too dangerous. We have to take him out now, while he's just laying there, then we'll be Alpha and no one will be able to hurt our mate.** But even the Wolverine's furious demand was less convincing than before, as if he was just as confused by the non-violentresponse.

Logan yanked back, pulling his claws in as he stood and stumbled away from where Creed lay, chest flayed open, bleeding from multiple punctures.

A tree supported Logan as he tried to catch his breath, as much from exertion as from the emotional upheaval. A choking cough drew his eyes back to Creed, who groaned as he hauled himself painfully to a sitting positon. His clawed fingers poked at the gaping wound in his chest. "Damn, boy, that's one of your better ones. Why didn't you finish it?"

Logan jerked his shoulders. He didn't know why he hadn't finished the killing stroke and ripped out Creed's heart. It was just something in the way Creed hadn't fought back. And maybe it had something to do with what the Wolverine in his head had said… "Alpha."

"What was that?" Creed's eyes narrowed on his little brother.

"I had a flash from…before… You were the Alpha of our Pack."

"Aww, Jimmy, are you going sentimental on me?" Sarcasm dripped from Creed's fangs.

"Shut the hell up. Just 'cause you're Alpha won't stop me from ripping your throat out."

Laughing, Creed sat up and snagged a handful of damp leaves to scrub at the blood on his now-healed chest. "You can try. What crawled up your ass, anyway? That I can smell you fucked your little bitch out here?"

Logan snarled and stepped forward, claws popping again. Creed just waved him back. "Don't try it, I'm not going to let you take me down again. You need to be taught who's leader of our Pack again, I'd be happy to show you. You want to challenge me, I'll take you on."

Subsiding with a quiet growl, Logan sat on a tree stump, watching as his brother used damp moss to wipe most of the blood off. "I didn't fuck – Jesus! I didn't take her out here. Things just got a little…out of hand."

Creed took a deep breath. " Out of claw, you mean, don't you, Jimmy? No, maybe you didn't fuck her. But you let your animal out to play with her, hmm? And it felt good, huh, Jimmy? Bet you would have been happy to let him take her here in the woods, on the soft ground. Mud on her skin, bark and leaves in her hair. Bet she looks fucking hot with her ass in the air, her face pressed down into the dirt, whimpering and begging… " He trailed off, laughing as Logan's growl sounded again. "Down, pup, I'm not going to take her from you."

He smelled sincere, Logan thought. Reeked of cave musk and old blood, but no stink of lie to his words. "Shut the hell up, you psycho bastard, Marie ain't something you can just take."

An ugly sneer met his words. "Of course she is, Jimmy, she's just a little frail with a leech's power and a tight little tail. But I won't. Because whether you remember or not, whether you believe me or not, we're Pack, so I don't touch her. You hear me, Jimmy? You're my fucking Pack, and she's yours, so she's my Pack. So, I ain't gonna kill your frail, and I won't fuck her… Not unless she asks for it. After all, as Alpha, I have to make sure the needs of my Pack are met." The sneer was now a wickedly cheerful leer and Logan did not appreciate the sentiment behind it.

But he could still smell the truth on Creed's little speech, much as he wanted to think the bastard was lying. Even that little snipe about fucking Marie if she asked for it. Just the thought made him want to slice off Creed's cock so there'd be no chance of that. But the damn healing factor would probably just regrow it. Might be fucking worth if he brings that up again, he mused.

"What am I supposed to say, thank you for taking Marie off your to-rape-and-kill list?"

"Jesus, Jimmy, is that all you think I do? I've been with you X-geeks for almost a year, have I done any killing that you didn't want to be part of? You don't have any room to talk about killing people. As for raping, well, fun as it might be, I've grown accustomed to the less work in just picking up some barfly frail. More likely to get your dick sucked if you don't beat them bloody first, anyway."

Creed's little comment surprised a snort out of Logan. "Yeah, bet they don't like that much."

Creed made a feline sound of disgust. "Sure, the screaming is fun for a while but they just don't shut up and it grates. Makes it tough to stay hard. Like I said, easier to just get one drunk and take her out in an alley."

Logan shook his head, thinking of all the times he'd had his own alley interludes after a night in the cage. But those thoughts lead to the last night he'd gone into a cage before his new life started, the night a scared kid whose spring rain smell washed his battered spirt clean shouted at him to look out. The night he'd changed his mind on a snowy road and took a chance on his new life with the kid.

"Creed… Marie, she's…"

"Fuck, stop, Jimmy, I know. No feely, chick shit, alright? Pack." He spread his hands and shook his head. "That's all that needs to be said. But don't go expecting me to be all nice and chirpy with her. I wanted a little sister even less than I wanted to be saddled with a little brother."

Logan still didn't completely understand, but he got that Creed would leave Marie alone. Or at least not instigate any attack. He couldn't guarantee that Marie wouldn't attack Creed. The kid was a hellcat when she was on a rampage, though she got along well enough with Creed in general.

"I need a beer." Logan looked over at Creed, who absently scratched his healed chest. "Come on, Jimmy, you tried to kill me last, you buy the first round."

There was a moment of silence, then Logan nodded shortly. "What the hell." Still shook up over the thing with Marie, he thought, at least Creed seemed to get the feral part that was still begging the human portion to go find Marie and finish what they'd started in the woods. As they walked, with a sizable distance between them, Logan could hear the Wolverine in his head.

 **Maybe Alpha won't hurt our Mate, but she's not safe. Much too vulnerable now, she'd be safer if we go finish it now. No one can take her from us if we finish claiming her the way we're supposed to.**

* * *

 _So, we saw Victor again. Now the boys are going to go drink themselves stupid and Jubilee and Rogue are going to go have some retail therapy... Before they go drink themselves stupid, too. What's sauce for the goose and all that! Let me know what you're thinking, you guys are awesome! But seriously, if there's something you wanna see, let me know!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Hi, everyone out there in computer land! Hope all my American readers had a lovely Fourth of July, I know I did! But I got mosquito-bit to hell and back, so that's been annoying all day. Anyway, here's the 11th chapter, I hope you enjoy Marie's and Jubilee's shopping excursion. Please, leave me a review to let me know what you're thinking, if you're liking it, if there's something you'd like to see._

 _:D Enjoy!_

* * *

Marie spent the time she'd planned on having a Danger Room session with Logan talking to Jubilee. She told her uncharacteristically silent friend the story of the morning, only leaving out the conversation she'd had with the Wolverine. Anyone but Jubilee, she'd never had told about the bite mark. She's sure as hell never tell anyone but Jubes anything about how she came on a scream at the smallest slice over the mark. But Jubilee was her old roommate and knew all Marie's little quirks. Unfortunately for both of them, Jubilee had walked in on Marie exploring those little…quirks by herself a number of times over their roommate years, but Jubilee had never judged the untouchable girl.

The upshot of those youthful uncomfortable moments was that they were now very comfortable with each other's preferences. Marie knew that Jubilee would never condemn her for her affection for leather belts or Logan's claws; Jubilee was safe to use as a sounding board. And Marie needed all the help she could get.

What in sweet hell had happened out there? The Wolverine chasing her, catching her, that was brand new but she could accept that, probably better than Logan could since she didn't fear his feral side. But the marking… And it was no ordinary bite mark, that had been made abundantly clear. It didn't heal, which was unprecedented. But the reaction to being touched... That was something she'd never experienced, never even heard of. From Logan's reaction he'd never seen anything like it either.

After Marie told her about the out-of-the-blue orgasm, Jubilee let out a low whistle and sat back, quietly pondering what she'd been told as Marie showered off the dirt and forest debris. "So, did Wolvie cum?"

Dripping water and shampoo, Marie stuck her head around the shower curtain to stare at her friend. "Really? That's what you want to know first?"

"I like to know these things! Plus, if you made Wolvie cum in his pants, I'd have to give you major props, since I've never managed that with Remy… Been close though…"

Marie glared at her. "Ew, I don't need the details like you do. But no, he didn't."

"Oh. Too bad."

Marie sighed and stepped back under the spray. "I think I need some lunch and retail therapy after this morning." She finished her shower quickly as Jubilee squealed and dashed off to her room for her purse and, presumably, her shopping shoes.

Marie and Jubilee spent an hour at the mall, and then went for a girly lunch that Jubilee demanded, using the reasoning that she had not gotten a mid-morning orgasm, so she got to pick the restaurant. Marie had hushed her and allowed herself to be dragged into the cute little tearoom. Not her style, she thought with a glance around the rosy and cheerful room, but not that bad really. The excellent burger she'd unexpectedly found on the menu certainly made up for the overly-pink décor.

As she ate, Marie soaked up Jubilee's chatter. It was usually this way for them, Jubilee sparkling like the fireworks she made, Marie content to listen quietly for the most part. She was the only one who could pull Marie out of her own mind when she needed it. The food, the company, the femaleness of the restaurant, it all soothed her and she didn't even bitch when, after lunch, Jubilee dragged her into that dreaded hell of a lingerie store, Victoria's Secret. As she glared at her friend, the yellow-shoed girl danced around the store, finding unbelievable undergarments for Marie.

Some of them made her laugh, like the little French-maid-inspired number that she flatly refused to try on. Others, like the green satin corset-style piece piqued her interest enough to try it on. Much to her chagrin, she was weak enough to let Jubilee bully her into buying it. "Don't you want to have something that'll make Wolvie sit up and wag when you finally let him get in your pants?"

She got a dirty look from Marie for that, but since it was a good enough excuse, she purchased it. Jubilee was so happy that she'd gotten her to buy anything in the hated store that she barely even bitched when Marie detoured into a leatherworker's shop. "I've been wanting something to hold some of my knives," Marie explained as she started searching thought the boot sheathes. Jubilee just sighed and wandered off. A few minutes later, Jubilee got her attention by waving what appeared to be a handful of leather straps in front of her face.

"What's that?" Marie asked, somewhat scandalized by the S&M-esque look of the straps. In her mind, the Rogue sat up, interested.

"This, Roguey, is a leather shoulder harness with gun holsters _or_ knife sheathes!" She had a wicked glint in her eyes that made Marie narrow her own eyes.

"Huh…" Marie mused, taking the leather from the grinning girl. Examined it with a knowledge gained from Logan and his affinity for finely wrought leather. Approved heartily of the unique style, the delicate tooling and, sturdy stitching. Studied the front closure, the crossed straps in back that would allow good range of motion. Turning to a mirror, she handed Jubilee her shopping bag and swung the harness over her shoulders. She hitched the leather in place, enjoying the smooth glide. No pinching, no tight stretch, even when she hooked it closed over her chest, just a soft _shush_ of well-oiled leather. Ohh, very nice, she thought, as she admired the comfortable fit.

From behind her, Jubilee hummed happily. Marie looked over her shoulder at her grinning friend. "What?"

"Roguey, you _have_ to get this. Wolvie's tongue is going to fall out of his head when he sees that."

Green eyes rolled. "Not everything I buy is to get Logan going, Jubes."

"But it's _such_ a delicious little side benefit! Besides, that thing is _hot_!" Marie just shook her head, but she hid a grin as she peeled it off. Jubilee started to pout when she took it off, but her expression brightened again when Marie added it to the two boot sheathes she'd already picked out. Marie laughed at the comical change of expressions and tossed Jubilee the two gun holsters. "You found it, you go get me the knife sheathes, I'll meet you at the counter."

As she walked to the counter, she could hear Jubilee chattering happily as she looked for the proper sheathes.

At the counter, the young, pimple-faced clerk rang her up. She could feel his eyes on her. Used to being scrutinized for being a mutant, she looked up to meet his gaze firmly with her cool, Rogue stare. To her surprise, it wasn't anger or fear in his eyes but an wide-eyed kind of admiration. When she met his eyes, he smiled a little and said, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to stare…you just look so like someone I've seen on tv."

She arched an eyebrow and drawled, "Really? Odd."

The young man flushed and started to stutter, when Jubilee bounced up to drop the sheathes on the counter beside Marie's other selections. Seeing the clerk's red face, she chirped, "Roguey, what did you do to him?" with a little smirk.

At the mention of her name, the man twitched a little, but now he only had eyes for the little Asian firecracker. Jubilee sparkled and glittered in her yellow coat and the poor man didn't stand a chance. He managed to ring up Marie's items, take her money, and make change, all without once taking his eyes from the smiling girl. Marie just shook her head and shooed Jubilee out the door, leaving him gaping behind them. "Face forward, Jubes, he's already drooling, don't leave him with too many more images!"

Cheerful laughter rolled out of the bubbly girl. "Roguey, you always leave them wanting more!"

They'd been shopping for several hours now and Marie was too exhausted to argue that point, so she just murmured, "Mhmm, tell me more, o wise one," and steered her out to the car while Jubilee expounded on the merits of flirtation.

The girls drove back to the mansion and changed, Jubilee barging into Marie's room to "help" her choose an outfit. On the drive back, she's told Jubes about her plan of using alcohol to calm Logan down enough so they could have a, hopefully, reasonable discussion. The plan had been met with determined agreement, but Jubilee insisted that Marie change into something that would "make Wolvie sit up and beg." While it wasn't the image that Marie would have thought of, she appreciated the sentiment; she also admitted that she probably needed Jubes' input, as her experience of actively seducing men was, well, exactly nil.

So it was that Marie stood before her closet in bemusement for the second time in so many days. This time, however, she was watching her best friend digging through the clothes with a ferocity of attention that was usually reserved for five-star generals forming battle plans. Or maybe a master painter working a canvas. Marie did feel like a little bit of both as Jubilee yanked clothes out and held them up, only to ruthlessly discard them.

Just as Marie's nerves were starting to fray, and really, she'd held on longer than normal already, Jubilee spoke over her shoulder, "Ok, chica, I've narrowed it down. Go do your makeup and hair, I'll have it done when you come back."

Primping never took long for Marie. She was more simple than Jubilee, just a little eye makeup to darken them and a little lip gloss, but even then she rarely bothered to do it. Logan always laughed at her when she came out of a Danger Room session with "raccoon eyes." As she examined her reflection critically, she hoped that this time Logan appreciated the trouble she was going through. Finished, she walked back out to the main room to find Jubilee's butt in the air as she apparently excavated the floor of Marie's closet.

"Jubes, sugar, what in the hell are you looking for?"

"I got one black boot and one brown one, chica. Why are they _both_ lefts? It's not _right_ , there are no rights! Where are their rights?"

Marie stared at her, wondering if Jubes had finally descended into a clothing-induced mania. Then she remembered she'd taken the black right-foot one in to be repaired, since Logan had firmly instilled the appreciation of a solid pair of boots in her, and kicked the brown on off under the bed in her hurry to shower the night before. To keep Jubes from freaking out any more than she already was, Marie snagged the missing brown boot and tapped her on the shoulder with it.

Dark curls bounced as Jubilee whipped around and snatched the boot. "Ok, so we're going with the brown. That means the light jeans with the blown out knee, that cream tank top, Logan's green and tan plaid shirt. And of course, the new harness and the bomber jacket you got for Christmas two years ago, the one the color of milk chocolate."

Marie gaped at Jubilee. "Do you memorize every article I own?"

"Not just yours, chica! Everyone's!" She laid a dramatic hand over her heart. "It's both a gift and a curse."

"Jubes, sometimes I think that your fireworks aren't your mutation, just a trick you play on all of us and your real mutation is this bizarre ability to recall every scrap of fabric you've ever seen in your whole life."

"You might not be too wrong on that, chica, but that just means I'm all the more qualified to help you. So, when we get to the bar, you buy my first round when Logan can't think what to say."

As she tugged on the clothes Jubilee'd specified, Marie just chuckled. "Deal."

* * *

 _So for the next chapter, Marie and Jubilee will head off to a local bar to meet up with there feral teammates. Anyone have any suggestions on what happens? Also, yes, the leather harness thing certainly sounds bdsm-y but I was looking up knife sheaths and I saw one that went over the back with a razorback style and just HAD to incorporate it somehow. It just struck me as so badass. And in my world, at lease, Rogue is much more into the hands-on, close contact style of fighting afforded by knives, considering her mutation requires skin to skin contact._


	12. Chapter 12

_Hi, guys, how's life out there in the real world? Hope everyone's enjoying the nice summer :)_

 _Now, here's the next step in the story, a meet up in a local bar. How you lovely folks like it!_

* * *

The healing factor could be a bitch. Sure, it'd save your ass if you got shot or gutted or whatever, but god forbid you try to get drunk. Not only did you have to drink hard and fast, you had to keep drinking to keep the drunk going, or it'd burn right off. With that in mind, Logan had been drinking bourbon steadily for hours. Victor'd sat with him the whole time, matching him drink for drink. There'd been few words between the brothers through the day, chiefly just grunts to "pass the pretzels" or "flag down that frail for another bottle." Logan was taciturn by nature and Victor was more concerned about drinking than speaking.

The evening crowd had started to roll in and the music began to pulse when Logan surfaced from the pleasant bourbon fog to wonder aloud, "Wha' time it is…"

Victor grunted and dug around in his duster's pockets, finally coming up with a pocket watch. Logan looked at it quizzically but Victor just flicked it open and squinted. He blinked a few times and scowled before turning the watch 180 degrees and finally grunting, "Six forty-five." When Logan snickered, Victor scowled and slammed the watch closed.

"Shut the fuck up, runt, the numbers are small."

"Yeah, maybe your dunk…drunk ass just can't read time. Tell time."

Victor showed a little fang and said, "Keep drinking, Jimmy, it's been a while since I've beaten the hell out of you."

They both took long pulls from their bottles to keep the buzz going. Logan wiped his mouth and said, "I'm King of the Cage, Creed, and I'll kick your ass."

"Pfft, you're nothing but a cocky pup."

Logan tried to snarl a challenge but it mostly got stuck in his throat and he had to take another drink clear it out again. Victor chuckled and started to say something, but he broke off and his eyes widened over Logan's shoulder. His nostrils flared and the gold flecks that always swam in his blue eyes brightened. Logan's own eyes widened at the sight, and his own senses jacked up to smell the change in the room. General bar atmosphere suddenly spiked with male arousal, female heat, and the unexpected tang of bubblegum. It was a familiar combination and he slid out of the booth, stumbling only a little bit as he tried to turn around.

Stumbled a little more when he saw Marie. There was nothing unusual about her jacket and jeans, things he'd seen her in a hundred times, but she'd left her hair down to frame her face and done some female trick to make her eyes huge. She's also coated those sweet lips of hers in something that made them look soft and wet. Those battered boots made arrogant thunks as she strode across the room to the brothers' booth.

In short, everything about her just did it for him.

She stepped closer to him and he was finally able to acknowledge Jubilee's broadly grinning presence with a curt nod, though his eyes never left the kid.

Only to have his mouth quite literally fall open as she shrugged out of the leather jacket to expose what he could only assume was a device designed to make his eyeballs melt. It was a strip of finely-worked leather that wrapped around her upper back, with straps over her shoulders, and closed around her chest; there appeared to be two knife handles protruding from clever sheathes under her arms. Something about those knives was tickling him but the cinching of the leather around that chest of hers was what was making his mouth water.

When he finally managed to make his brain connect to his mouth again, she was within arm's reach and he couldn't stop himself from reaching out for her. She slid one gloved hand into his and tossed her jacket onto the empty booth bench. "Evenin', sugar."

"Hey, kid." She started to smile then her eyes drifted over the _very_ large number of empty bottles scattered across the tabletop, and she turned back to him with arched eyebrows.

"Oh, sugar…"

"Hey, now, M'rie, I didn't drink them all. Vic had half." He turned to gather an armload and Marie mouthed, "Vic?" at Jubilee, whose smile threatened to split her face.

"I think you owe me a round, chica!"

Marie hushed her and pushed her toward the bar, stuffing a twenty into her hand. "Buy yourself and Victor a round, ok?"

Jubilee snickered and looked over her shoulder at Victor. "Come on, Remy's coming by in a while, why don't you help me make him a little jealous?" Victor's malicious chuckle drifted back to Marie and she only hoped they didn't do anything to get them kicked out of the bar. Sully's was a personal favorite of hers and she didn't want it to be off limits to the X-Men.

Marie slid into the empty booth and watched her feral come back to her; even a little drunk, he positively _prowled_ toward her, his eyes glimmering with gold flakes. So the Wolverine was awake? She smirked and reached for the still-full bottle on the table. Took a healthy swig. She expected him to sit across from her, so it made her jump a little when the bench sagged under his metal-boned weight.

She jumped a little more when one of his arms went behind her back and the other reached in front of her for the bottle. When she turned to look at him, he was close, very close. His hazel eyes flickered back and forth between the gold, finally settling to his normal color with a warm gold haze. They were both there and working in perfect harmony, then. Probably the alcohol. Judging by the bottles on the table, he'd managed to get pretty lit, even with his healing factor.

He took a pull from the bottle and set it back on the table without taking his eyes off hers. Licked his lips. Heat raced through her veins and she knew he smelled it; his nostrils flared and he moved closer. His presence forced her back until her shoulders hit the wall, her body twisted on the bench so that as he slid his body to hers, her right leg slid up and hooked over his knee. The palm of his hand flattened by her head and he moved in to nuzzle at her shoulder.

"What is that thing you got on, darlin'?" His free hand rubbed the strap at her shoulder then trailed down to stroke the leather where it stretched over her slender back.

"It's a weapons harness, sugar. Jubes thought you might approve. You like?"

His deep purr at her throat made her tingle all over. "Gonna have to let the little sparkplug off a few Danger Room sessions for making a good decision. You know, kid, I just wanna take 'nother bite outta you, right here…" A single finger followed the leather around to her chest and stroked the soft curve of her breast. Even under a layer of leather and three of cloth, she could feel the heat of his hand. Knew he could feel her tremble when he purred back at her.

"Can I, Rogue? Why don't you let me, right now? Up against this wall, right here and now?"

Marie didn't know what to say. Her body and mind were both screaming _yes_ , telling her to spread her legs wider. Pull him closer, tip her head and bare herself. But she wasn't the drunk one, so she had to be a little responsible and she supposed that meant not letting his feral side come out in the middle of a crowded bar.

However, she might have hesitated a little too long considering his hand was firming on her breast, fingers sliding, searching for skin under the leather. Hot and hard, they cupped her. Squeezed. His lips caught hers to stifle the gasp that slipped out. Tongues strokes as his fingers searched for her nipple and he swallowed her whimper, gave her a groan of his own in return. Logan lifted his head, released her lips, and nuzzled her neck again. Trailed his mouth to her ear, nibbled on her lobe.

Another little whimper slid out of her and he snarled in her ear. "Just wanna gobble you down, make you mine, sweet M'rie."

The fingers of one hand slid up to stroke his head, grip his hair. When he shifted so he could nuzzle at the mark on her, she gasped out his name. He dropped both his hands to her hips, surging against her so she was pressed between him and the wall. Though her left leg was bent uncomfortably between them, he managed to crowd close; their shared heat was almost enough to sizzle the air.

His tongue licked over the mark on her neck and she moaned. When her chin dropped, he growled and fisted one of his hands in her hair to drag her head back, snarled into her throat, "You don't hide from me, darlin', not ever. Never gonna hurt you, M'rie, but you gotta know who's boss here."

Who is in charge, huh? If she were a different one, a less confident one, one that was less of a Rogue, she might have been insulted or offended. But she had enough of Logan and the Wolverine in her mind to know what he meant by the abrupt words. Knew that he didn't mean he controlled her, didn't want to control her, just wanted her to acknowledge the role of the female animal to his male animal. With that in mind, wanting and willing to soothe that feral male creature, she tipped her chin up and sent him a challenging look from under her lashes.

"Is that so, sugar? You're in charge?"

Logan growled under his breath and took her mouth in a deep, wet kiss. She let out a muffled "oomph!" when his forward motion pressed her back into the wall and her head connected with a solid thump. Against her lips, he muttered, "Sorry, kid," and slid the hand in her hair up to cradle the back of her head, protecting her from further head trauma. Snickering, perhaps having been knocked a little silly, Marie just wrapped one arm around his neck and tugged him closer.

Nipping at her lips until she opened for him, Logan surged forward and took the kiss deeper, dying for the taste of her, the feel of the hot haven of her mouth under his.

Down they spiraled until Marie couldn't breathe and she pressed against Logan's shoulders. He lifted his head and stared down at her. Pretty lips red and swollen from his kisses. Cheeks rosy, green eyes a little glassy. Those cloudy eyes cleared a little as she caught her breath and he enjoyed seeing Marie give way to the Rogue as she leaned back and smiled.

"Damn, boy, you really pack a punch, don't you?"

He tugged on her hair and smirked at her, then slid out of the booth. One big hand caught her wrist and he pulled her across the booth after him. With a little jerk, he pulled her to her feet and up against him, sliding his arms around her waist and moving against her.

"Logan, sugar, you dance?" The little gurgle of laughter bubbled out of her before she could stop it.

A scowl darkened his face for about two seconds before his hazel eyes twinkled a little and he slid her into a quick spin, their hips pressed together.

"If you can dance good, darlin', you can probably fuck good, too." She arched her brows as him and Logan slapped a hand on her ass and swung her around again. "So, M'rie, do I dance good?"

Her head tipped back in a laugh then she stumbled at the roar that tore through the music and clack of pool balls. Spinning on her heel, she took in the sight at the bar.

What met her startled eyes was Remy, glowing cards in hand, facing off with Victor. Blood covering a good portion of the feral's face, his hands were out stretched with claws full extended.

"Son of a bitch! Those goddamn motherfucking assholes!"

Marie didn't bother to scold Logan for the over-the-top expletive, already on her way to get between the two men.

"Remy, what the hell?!"

The furious man ignored Marie's cry and shouted, "Jubilation Lee, you quit hidin' behind that _putain de_ _chat_ and get _ton cul_ over here, Remy _ne joue pas,_ you hear?"

Her eyes widened at Remy from her position between the men. Never before had Marie seen the normally laid-back, Devil-may-care Cajun so volatile. His eerie eyes were glowing along with his cards. In the tense silence, everyone watched as Jubilee's dark head popped out from behind Victor's shoulder.

" _Remy_ , sweetie, baby, whatever happened to _'laissez les bons temps r_ –"

Jubilee's words broke off with a squeak as Victor reached around and dragged her out, propelling her toward the irate Cajun.

"Here, you damn swamp, take your little frail, I don't want her!"

From her place now behind Remy's back, Jubilee pouted. "But, 'Tooth, baby, I thought we were having _fun_!" He bared his fangs in a snarl and Jubilee subsided with an annoyed huff.

With one last, fulminating look, and a hurled card, at Victor, Remy spun and bustled Jubilee out. Just before she disappeared into the night, Jubilee craned her head back and sent Marie a wink and a subtle thumbs up.

Shaking her head at her certifiable friend's antics, Marie turned to stare at the two ferals, now shoulder to shoulder, arms folded over broad chests, backs to the bar. Both were staring after the departing couple with matching scowls. For just a moment, as she examined them, she wondered how none of the X-Men had ever tagged them as brothers before Victor joined the team and let everyone in on the secret. True, Victor was taller and lighter in coloring, but both were feral, ridiculously well-muscled, and had no-so-subtle auras of menace. Not to mention, she considered as she let her gaze roam them, she couldn't help but note that they were both absurdly handsome male specimens.

The fire Logan had started in the booth, banked by the quick run-in with a dangerously angry, somewhat plasma-maniacal gambler, began to rekindle low in her belly. Suddenly, both ferals' heads whipped to her. Marie jumped a little at being caught in the gaze of two predators and tried a small smile. Both men returned the smile, albeit more dangerously. Eying them a little warily, Marie held out a hand to Logan.

"Where were we, sugar?"

Logan's smile grew even broader and he used her hand to tug her in, snugging her up against his chest. "Right about here, I'm thinkin', kid."

Victor snorted at the line and Logan gave him the finger behind Marie's back.

With Logan in her head, she knew what his likely reaction was and she just laughed and pulled on his arms, dancing them both in a meandering path to the door. A few yards from the door, Logan got tired of the slow progress and he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist and hoisted her up. Strode out the door with not a word to anyone. Victor's laugh followed them as the door banged closed behind them.

Logan glanced up at Marie's grinning face above him. "How'd you get here, kid?"

She tipped her head toward her truck, the banged up little green S-10 Logan had presented to her the night before her sixteenth birthday. Then she squeaked as Logan's long fingers dipped into her back pockets. When he pulled out her keyring, she finally clued in that he wasn't just copping a feel.

"Side benefit, babe," he smirked, apparently reading her mind. Shoving the door back open, he tossed the keys in Victor's general direction. "Bring Rogue's truck when you come." He didn't shout across the room; Creed would hear him well enough.

The vehicle situation all taken care of, Logan yanked the driver's door of his own truck open and tossed his bundle in. Her laughter warmed his heart, but there were other parts of him that were louder in their cries for attention. Following his girl into the cab of the truck, Logan growled at her to buckle up.

Gravel flew as the truck flew out of the parking lot and tore down the winding road back home.

* * *

 _So, did you like it? Hated it? Meh'd it? What?! *shakes fists at the sky* What do you want from me?_

 _Ok, so that was a little over the top, but I really want to know what y'all are thinking about the story. Also, roughly translated (as I don't speak French, muchless Cajun French) Remy's words mean "you quit hiding behind that fucking cat and get your ass over here, Remy is not playing". If anyone out there does speak French, I apologize for butchering your language._

 _Also, there will be lemons coming in the next chapter, I promise! But I'd be grateful if anyone would read my "Three's Not Company, It's Fun" and let me know about that sort of lemon. The quickly advancing lemons won't be that variety, but I'm bandying it about for a later one, perhaps. Or maybe not... This is why I need you people!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Hi, you lovely people! Sorry it took so long for me to grow the lemons! It wasn't happening the way I'd hoped and it took me a while to get it to have sort of the right tone. .. Eh, I'm still not thrilled, but I'm much, much happier with this than with what I'd first written for it. Please, review and let me know what you think about it! Love, DotBC_

* * *

Logan had the presence of mind to be grateful for his enhanced senses as he barreled down the road at a speed considerably faster than what was likely safe, considering that it was a pitch black night and twisty back roads. However, with his eyesight, he was able to avoid the three deer that choose that moment to trot across the road. The raccoon was a closer call, being dark as it was, but, really, it's not like he hit it, there was no call for Marie to shriek like that.

In any case, by the time they got back to the school, their nerves were stretched tight. Logan slid the truck to a halt in front of the large garage with a squeal of tires on cement. Not bothering to even turn the headlights off, he was out of the door and dragging Marie across the bench seat before even get her seatbelt unbuckled. Seeing the reason she wasn't sliding across the seat as easily as he'd hoped, Logan popped a claw and sliced the belt, ignoring her startled, "Logan!". With her free now, he finished pulling her out of the cab and swung her up, over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and took off for the door inside while she shrieked with laughter.

From her ungainly position over his shoulder, Marie couldn't help but admire the muscles. Sure, the adamantium gave him a good frame, but he'd built on it with skill and determination. She was no lightweight, compact as she was, muscle being denser than fat and all that, and he was practically jogging as if he wasn't carrying 150 pounds. Upstairs. With an erection.

Well, hell, as she'd been admiring his ass in the jeans, up close and personal in this current position, he'd managed to get inside and on his way up to the adults' floor without anyone spotting them. No small feat, really, in a house filled with curious kids and nosy staff.

Logan wasn't doing much thinking as he hauled her up the stairs, too consumed with images of her in that weapons harness, the knife hilts pressing into his back a constant reminder that she was armed and dangerous which only served to fan his fire more. Or, more specifically, he was more consumed with images of peeling her out of the harness, then the flannel shirt, which he damn well knew was his and that only made it hotter. Then that thin white tank top she wore, a habit he shared and approved of. Then the bra, whatever one she had on underneath everything else; he was dying to know what color she'd chosen for tonight. Yesterday had been an old gray one worn soft and comfortable with age and countless washings. He had a feeling she'd chosen something a little more visually stimulating today.

Finally, _fucking finally_ , they were in the hall that held their rooms. At the door to her bedroom, Marie raised her head from its spot on his back but he never broke stride. At the door to his own room, he stopped. She thought he's swing her down now and raised her arms to brace, but he just shoved the door open, not caring that it hit the stopper on the inside with a bang. With Marie still draped over his shoulder, he went in and kicked the poor door closed.

She really hopped no one heard because explaining or defending this to Scott or Jean was the last thing she wanted to do right now!

In a few feet from the bed, with no pause in his step, Logan swung her off his shoulder and tossed her onto the rumpled bed, one sheet still laying on the ground from their interlude that morning. Watching him from the pile of blankets and pillows, Marie watched him stalk her. If she didn't know him as well as she did, she'd think he was angry, maybe even out to hurt her. As she did know him, she took the steely expression as one of intense desire being held in check by a control that, if the golden flecks in his eyes were any indication, was fraying rapidly. And as she did know him, she didn't fear those golden signs of his feral side.

When Logan halted a foot from the bed and just stared down at her, she thought for one horrible second he was going to change his mind. But no, as she watched, his knuckles tightened until even in the dim light she could see the skin stretched white over them, the outline of claws pressing just below that stretched skin.

So, she thought, not stopping, just taking a moment to try to get his control in check. Well, we can't have any of that.

Thinking that, wanting him to come to her with all of him, not just one half or the other, not now, she lay fully back and spread her legs just a little, raising her hips in an instinctive invitation, eyes locked to his. The low growl that echoed in the quite room made her shiver with desire.

"Logan, honey, please. Come to bed."

Just those six little words, nothing too deep or romantic or explicit, were just what he needed, just right to help remind him she knew him, all of him, and wanted him anyway. Nearly jumping that final foot, he fell on her hungrily.

Desire, blinding and hot, made his hands unsteady and his fingers clumsy. As he struggled with the clasp on her weapons harness, he wanted badly to slice away the interfering leather. But the idea that she might be willing to model if for him later, in it and only it, was too tempting, so he fought the tiny eyelets with muttered curses. Marie, seeing his trouble, left off unbuttoning his shirt to help him, but at his warning snarl, withdrew her hands and went back to shoving his shirt off his shoulders.

Eventually the stupid little eyelets, surely one of the better forms of torture he'd ever experienced, gave up and parted. Just about that moment, Marie managed to shove the shirt down his arms, trapping them until he yanked away and ripped it off himself, following with his own tank. Because of the tightness of the harness, he couldn't slide her arms out of it with her laying on her back, so he roughly flipped her over, nearly knocking the breath out of her with the suddenness of the motion. On her stomach now, Logan moved to straddle her thighs. He dragged the harness free, then the flannel shirt. The tank followed quickly and she was left in nothing but jeans and her bra. Deep cranberry tonight, making her creamy skin glow in contrast. Since he was already behind her, he unsnapped the bra without any preamble, and kissed the skin hidden by the soft fabric.

Under his lips, he could feel the shiver that wracked her, feel the vibration of the moan the brush of his mouth and stubble elicited.

Sliding a little farther down her body, he slid his hands under her hips and ripped at the button and zipper of her jeans. When they gave way, he slid fully off of her and yanked her jeans down. Snarled when they caught on the boots he'd momentarily forgotten she was still wearing. Too engrossed with the sight of her ass in plain, so thin as to be nearly translucent, blue panties, Logan pulled her boots off without flipping back over. Once they were gone, he quickly pulled the socks off and left her bare except for that underwear that was really doing no good at concealing what it was covering.

While he'd undressed her, Marie had been quiet, letting him do as he liked, enjoying the feel of his hands on her. She loved that he wasn't tender and temperate. She wanted turbulent and hot and if he wanted to get her naked then she'd damn well get naked for him. Happily enjoying the feel of his heat behind her, she still jumped a little when his large hands cupped her butt through her cotton underwear. Big and hot even with the barrier, they squeezed her flesh until she wiggled and moaned, her legs spreading a little more.

Logan couldn't hold back the harsh groan as the overwhelming scent of her arousal flooded his already-overheated brain. The Wolverine was rattling the bars of his cage, demanding, pleading to be let out.

 **Marie-mate, so hot and ready, I need her, we need her. Take her, finish the Mating! Fuck her, love her, fuck her, love her. Takehertakehertakeher.**

The thoughts ran on a loop in his mind as the feral in his mind played images of taking Marie like this, ass in the air, bent over and opened for him. It was too much and before he knew what he was doing, Logan had ripped her underwear off of her, leaving her naked and bare, her hips at the edge of the high bed with her legs dangling over the side. From his new position between her legs, Logan was fumbling with his own jeans before he realized what he was doing.

Though he thought it might kill him, he stepped back and turned a little away from her.

At the loss of his heat, heat and rough hands that had been making her crazy, Marie looked over her shoulder. Saw him standing away from her, fists again clenched.

"Logan?"

At first he didn't respond. She had to say his name again before he turned to look at her. The gold in her eyes didn't scare her at all but his silence and stillness was beginning to.

"Sugar, what's wrong?"

When he spoke, it was almost painfully rough, like the words were being dragged over broken glass lining his throat.

"He's in my head, shouting to take you, let him out so he can rut you from behind like an animal. Like a fucking wild thing, wants me to let him have you. Wants to mark you again, take you hard and long, make you scream and fill you up with his cock and his cum."

She wanted to cuddle him, pet him and make him understand that she loved him for what he was. But cuddling and sweet reassurances would wait. Right now, she was too hot, too needy to be gentle and she needed exactly what he'd just described the Wolverine wanting. So, though she hated to push him when he was so torn, she sneered over her shoulder at him.

"Well, come on, come here and fuck me. Make me scream, if you think you can, you arrogant bastard, before I go find someone who can!"

The melodramatic words might, under other circumstances, have made him laugh, but right now they just served to inflame him more. A vibrating snarl ripped out of him and in a blink he was back at the bed. Rough hands dragged her legs wider open. Between seconds, two thick fingers had found the entrance to her body and pressed deep. She yelped at the sudden penetration and he bent over and took a sharp nip at one shoulder blade. As his fingers pumped in and out of her body, his other hand fumbled with his belt. She could hear the muffled curses as he struggled to open the belt and buttons one handed. There was a distinct sound of rending denim then he hand both hands on her, the one still moving in her body, the other digging sharply into the softness of her ass.

The fierce grip made her gasp. The hot, wet shape of his erection resting on her ass made her aching want develop sharp edges. The press of his cock, so hard and solid at the entrance made her clench in anticipation.

For just a moment, he stopped there, just on the edge of a cliff he could never climb back up. If they did this, there was no coming back, no being _just friends_ again.

"Maire…"

"So help me, Logan, I swear if you do not take me right now, I will drain so much out of you that you won't be able to use that proud little cock of yours again for a decade!"

Her threat ended on a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a yelp with a little bit of squeak thrown in. Deep in her body, her silken liquid heat covering him from tip to root, Logan let out a sound of his own, but less squeaking and more growling. The smell of blood hit him and he couldn't stop the Wolverine from making a few thrusts into her sheath. When she gasped again, a trickle of pain in the air, he tried to freeze, tried to hold still and give her time to adjust to his possession.

Marie's face was buried in the bed and he reached to stroke her hair away with a hand that shook.

"God, Marie, I'm so sorry, kid. So sorry, please, darlin', please, God I'm sorry." He didn't know what he was saying, didn't care if he begged or pleaded, just needed her to tell him she was alright. Needed her to tell him that the blood and pain still hazing his senses was good, she was fine.

From her place in the mattress, she muttered something. Dropping his head down, blurting another apology when the move elicited another flick of pain, he whispered, "Marie, what, baby?"

"I said," she muttered, her accent thicker than he'd heard in years, "'I don't know what I expected.'"

Logan stared down that the sliver of her face that he could see for a long moment. When he laughed, a quick bark of it, he was just as surprised as Marie, who gave a little chuckle of her own, which turned into a moan as Logan began to withdraw from her. At the sound, he froze again, but this time there was not pain in the air, just the smoke of her body begging for his, and the moss-and-rain smell of her that he loved so much.

 **She needs more; make her moan, make her come. Such a strong young kitling, our Mate, so good to animals like us. Show her we love her, make sure she knows we love her and need her and want her. Fill her up, take her, love her, love her.**

A rare thing for him to fully agree with the Wolverine, but this time Logan did just that. Carefully, he pulled all the way out of her body. With just the head still in her, he surged forward, slowly, heavily, listening as she panted and her heart thudded. Over and over he stroked, torturing both of them with too-slow thrusts. Deeper and deeper, slowly gathering speed, loving the way she whimpered when he stroked over the rough patch inside her body, he moved, gripping her hips to help her find the rhythm.

As she grew more confident in her own body's ability, more sure in the steps of the dance, he moved faster and faster. Soon, much too soon, he was on the edge of climax, the heat and scent of her pushing him on. The grasp of her soaking pussy clamped around his throbbing cock the best thing he'd felt in his hundred-plus years, he was sure.

He slid one hand off her hip and under, cupping her and spreading her folds, finding and stroking the bundle of nerves. The feel of his calloused fingers rasping over her swollen clit sent Marie into an unexpected orgasm, her blood going from simmer to boil in seconds until she was clamping and screaming into the bed.

Logan, just as surprised by her climax as she, and not having prepared for it, was swept along in the tide of her spasms. Pulse after pulse of hot liquid pumped into her tight body as his thrusts dissolved into short, hard pumps. His arms kept her pulled to him as he bent over her body, getting deep as he possibly could and hammering into her. The quick, brutal strokes, combined with the delicious pain of his teeth suddenly sinking into the spot between her shoulder and her neck, propelled her into another climax before she'd fully come down from the first.

Drained, unable to even hold his own weight up, Logan collapsed on top of her, still snugged deep in her tight body. Little aftershocks still racked her as her breathing began to slow and steady. The little tremors of her body, under and around his, was going to make him hard again if he didn't separate, but he couldn't bring himself to leave the heaven of her.

"Christ on a crutch, sugar."

He let out a still-breathless huff of laughter into her hair at her profanity. "Yeah, kid?"

"I'm not turning on the factor this time. I want to keep these marks."

There was a long pause, during which time Marie wondered if she'd made a mistake in speaking the thought. Maybe she should have complimented him or thanked him or something first. Maybe she –

Logan rolled to his side, managing to keep his still semi-erection in her sheath as he adjusted them so she curled, back to chest, against him.

The silence stretched until Marie thought she'd break into a million pieces if he didn't say something. When he finally spoke, he just murmured into her sweaty hair, "Good, baby, I want you to keep 'em, too."

She nodded and drew in a breath to speak again, but he brought his left hand up and cupped her throat. "Not now, kid. Get a little sleep, alright? I got plenty of plans for us and I need you to be well rested for most of them."

Snickering at the thoughts of what his plans might be, she nodded and added, "You know, I got a few plans of my own."

He chuckled and nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. "Yeah, I just bet you do, kid, I just bet you do."

* * *

 _So, what did you think? Let me just tell you, on the first draft of this chapter, I'd tried to bring in some more of the bondage stuff, had Logan tie her to the bed but it felt too contrived, not to mention too fast. Then, I tried having Wolverine come out and take her first time, but that just made for a hurt and pissed off Logan... I finally tried to compromise, because I **really** wanted to have Wolverine involved in this first time together, by having Logan take her from behind. I'm kinda happy with it. Ish._

 _Also, in my head, and how I'm trying to convey it to you guys, Logan still thinks of his feral/Wolverine side as a separate entity from his human/Logan side, so when he thinks of it, it's "the Wolverine". But Marie, as well as Jubilee_ _incidentally, accept Logan as having both sides, so to her it's just "Wolverine" (no "the") the same way it'd be if she were speaking to or thinking about any of her friends, though she does acknowledge his individual presence, which is why she calls him Wolverine, and not Logan, on the few times she's seen him._

 _Clear as mud? Good!_


	14. Chapter 14

_Hi, folks! How's eveybody doing? Goooood. Well, I'm hoping that you'll all feel even better after reading this chapter, as it's the next part of the evening for Marie and Logan. Not morning yet, as I'd meant for it to be, but it popped into my head that with Logan's healing factor, he'd be raring to go all night, and Marie'd be right behind him. Under him. Whatever. So, here's a little more smut, hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Marie woke in the dark and quiet. For a moment she couldn't understand why her bed was so warm or why her pillow smelled like Logan. The heavy arm curling tighter over her waist and hauling her back into contact with a big, male body reminded her.

"Hey, darlin'." His voice was rough with sleep; it stroked her senses like a caress and she stretched under his arm. Her ass rubbed his new erection and he tugged her harder into the curve of his body and ground against her.

Smoke flooded the air again as her body dampened. Smirking into her hair, he slid the arm around her up until he was cupping a heavy breast. Somehow he'd managed to completely avoid her lovely breasts earlier, but he wanted to make up for it now. With that plan in mind, he slid away from her and let her fall onto her back, moving over her so his face was even with hers. The cat-green eyes he loved so much gleamed sleepily from lowered lashes as she watched him. Keeping his eyes on hers, wanting to see them cloud with desire, he dipped his head until their lips touched. Teased hers with a swipe of his tongue and a sharp little nip on her lower one. When hers parted on a tiny gasp, he surged forward, taking possession of her mouth in the same way he'd taken her body.

Marie shuddered as his tongue slid between her lips. His was challenging to her playful, owning her mouth while she moaned into the kiss.

Wrapped up in the kiss, she didn't keep track of his clever fingers. But she certainly noticed when he used those fingers to stroke her already-sensitive nipples to painfully tight peaks. Still kissing her hungrily, he took both nipples between his fingers and squeezed, increasing the pressure until Marie broke the kiss on a panting gasp. Logan pressed his face to her throat and breathed in the smell of her pleasure and the wetness between her legs that gushed as he increased the pressure just a _tiny_ bit more. Held her there until she let out the smallest of whimpers.

At the little sound, he eased up a bit and rolled them back and forth in his fingers. This time, she groaned out his name and clenched her fingers in his wild hair, trying to drag his mouth back to hers. Obliging, he took her mouth in a kiss and released her left nipple, leaving his hand to skate down her already-trembling body, over swells and dips until he delved into the wet heat between her thighs. As he sucked on her lip, he stroked her, played in the hot fluid he found there.

With a last nip on her lip, he left her mouth and nibbled his way down her body. Stopped at senic spots along the route: a rosy nipple, the smooth underside of a breast, the swell of her belly, the absurdly sexy basin of her bellybutton, the tender hollow between her hip and the mound that was his ultimate destination.

Having finally arrived at his endpoint, he set about making his girl scream. Teeth nipping, tongue laving and lashing, lips sucking and playing all while she writhed under his mouth with her hands in his hair.

Raising his head, he grinned at her with her dampness gleaming on his face. "Fucking hell, darlin', you have the sweetest cunt I've ever tasted."

She gasped his name on a scandalized laugh and yanked on his hair. His answering chuckle was muffled against her flesh as he returned to the tasty treat he was enjoying so much. Devouring her, he used all his talents to bring her to the edge, lapped her up when she came on a groan. Continued licking and nibbling until she stopped her trembling, then pushed away and kissed his way back up the body under his.

She lay lax and soft under him with a cat-and-cream sort of smile as he slipped into the space between her thighs. Logan wanted to taste that smile so he kissed the curved of her lips then lifted his head in surprise at the feel of her hand circling the throbbing erection between his own legs. At the touch of her fingers, he kissed her harder and bucked into her grasp. She began to stroke him, sliding her encircling fingers up and down his shaft but he moaned at her to stop.

"Later, kid, you can do that later if you want…" When she smiled at him wicked promise, he wondered if it was smart to let her have that control. But he had more important things to focus on just now. "Line me up, baby."

Smart girl, his Marie, his little Mate, she arched her body and pressed the swollen head of his cock the dripping opening in her body. His forward thrust was a slow, heavy glide that carried him deep, deeper, all the way into her. When he bumped the top of her body, she let out a little gasp of pleasure-pain and her scent ripened with it. He dipped his head and set his teeth to her breast. Her sharp nails dug into his shoulders as he pressed down into her. Her body fisted, wet and hot around his cock and he wanted to tremble with the force of his need for her.

Tasting the sweetness of her pebbled nipple, drowning in the liquid heat of her body, Logan was sure that if he was to die at that moment, after more than a century of fucking and fighting and doing what he wanted whenever the hell he wanted, he could die in the happiest moment he'd ever experienced.

Slowly, inexorably, the speed of his hips built as he stroked them both closer and closer to the edge. When he slammed deep and rotated inside of her, Marie broke with a sob and he lifted his head, the better to enjoy her climax. Her face was passion-blank, her pussy gripped his cock like a velvet fist, and her scent was all rain-soaked moss and peat smoke. Unable to resist tasting her, he slipped a hand between their bodies and gathered some of her moisture on the tips of two fingers. Marie flushed crimson when he licked them clean and he just had to kiss the scandalized look off her face.

"God, darlin', I'm gonna have such a good time finding all that things that can make you blush like that."

"Bless your heart, cowboy."

At the breathlessly-delivered words, Logan had to smother a laugh in the curve of her neck. Long ago, Marie had explained to him that a true southern lady didn't need to break out the vulgar words to deliver the most stinging of all insults, all she needed was to hand out "bless your heart" in the sweetest tone she could manage. He's loved it when she used it on Jean, the first time the doctor had made some snide little comment about Marie spending so much time with Logan, something about her needing to find friends her own age and stop pestering Logan so much.

Marie had looked at the redhead with cold eyes, but had said only, "Well, bless your heart, dear," in a voice just dripping with honey. Logan had handed Marie a beer and ushered her to the wreck room's couch, never sparing a glance for Jean. He'd pretended not to notice the way Marie'd shook afterwards, her scent so filled with humiliation and pain it was nearly liquid. But it had been the slick little current of shame that had made him casually use an arm around her shoulders to pull him into his side, snug her tight and close.

Thinking of that moment now, feeling the wash of affection for his spunky girl, he pressed deeper to her, wrapped his arms around her body and surged warm and hard into her. He wanted to feel her go over the edge for him again before he found his own release in her safe haven.

When she did come, breaking under him almost silently, he let himself go, just pound into her heat until the pleasure was too much for him and he followed her, flooding her again with his own fluid.

Sometime later, minutes or perhaps another century or two, he wasn't really sure, Marie poked at his shoulder. Snickered when Logan did nothing but mumble into her shoulder and nuzzle his face a little deeper into her skin. A grin on her face, luckily hidden from him just at the moment, Marie stroked a hand over his hair and sweaty back. Who would have ever pegged Logan, King of the Cage, the motherfucking Wolverine, as a snuggler? The thought just tickled so that, when she let a chuckle slip out and Logan mumbled, "Wha?" she told him.

"You cuddle, sugar, like a little boy wanting his nap."

" **Only with you, little Mate. Never safe enough with anyone, can never be exposed with anyone else. It's safe with you, I'm safe with you, just like you're safe with me. There's nothing better than to fuck you screaming, fill you up with my seed, then hold you close and tucked in."**

 **Marie started at the top of the dark head, listening to Wolverine speak in Logan's sated voice. Without the overwhelming clue of his eyes, she looked for less obvious ones: his breathing seemed deeper, the press of his sated body into hers a little more deliberate. Jacking up her borrowed feral senses, she could smell that the normal Logan smell, leather-and-pine, was still there, but the pine seemed stronger, and there was a current of something like a snowstorm.**

 **Sliding her hand into his hair, stroking slowly, Marie replied, "I'd be happy to stay here forever, sugar, never leave."**

" **Never leave, kitling, never leave."**

 **Somehow he managed to make the words an order and a promise and a plea all at the same time.**

" **Never, Mate, I'll never leave you."**

 **Her words dragged a pleased rumble from his throat and he turned his head enough so he could rasp his tongue over the scar on her neck from his original bite. His rumble grew to a more direct growl as she shivered and gasped at the sensation.**

" **Does he know what to do with the mating mark, kit?"**

 **Marie didn't say anything, didn't know what to say to answer that.**

 **Wolverine chuckled darkly and quickly moved, shifting their positions so, for the second time that night, the big, metal-laced body sat perched above her own from behind.**

" **I was here when we took you from behind, Mate, I was buried as deep in your sweet cunt as he was. He didn't want to taste this mark again," he continued, rubbing at it. Snarled when she wiggled in reaction and his, again hard, cock rubbed her soft ass.**

" **He thought it would hurt you, didn't want to spoil your first time with it." As he stroked the mark with one hand, he reached under her and stroked another sensitive place.**

" **He doesn't get yet that it's the best sort of pain. That mark you left on our lip is good, kit, so very good, but you need to mark us again, make it stronger and deeper, make sure he feels what you feel from yours." All the while he talked, he petted her with both hands, slid his cock in the cleft between her cheeks. It was too much for Marie and she was sobbing helplessly as he manipulated her body until she was a writing mass of need and want.**

 **Wolverine spoke low against her throat, his stubbly chin scratching over her mark, "I'm going to take you now, Mate, and I want to hear you screaming when I do." She whimpered a little as he scraped his teeth over the spot. "You come when I come, understand? When I cum and flood you with seed, you milk me dry. Then you lick me clean."**

 **With that, he shoved his erection into her from behind, sinking all the way to his swollen balls as she cried out into the bedclothes. God she was a beautiful thing, so hot and ready for him. Her desire soaked the air and only spurred him on. There was no way he would last long with her writing under his body like that, so he put all his considerable effort into forcing her over the edge of orgasm before he'd told her to. It would feel so good to him, and give him an excuse to tease and play with his mate. The man may be just a little shy of hurting her yet, but he knew exactly what his little mate wanted from him and would be more than happy to oblige.**

 **When he knew he was close, too fucking close, to coming, he held her still and fucked her with all his heavy strength while digging his teeth into the scar on her neck. The vice of her body around his forced him into his own orgasm. The last thing he heard was the sound of his little mate's voice crying out his name in tortured pleasure.**

* * *

 _So, you got to see a little more of Wolverine, what'd you think? Personally, I don't think of Wolverine as a dumb animal with only an animal's instincts. Sure, he'd wild and dangerous, but even wolves like to play and sleep cuddled up as puppies, so that's what I picture a sated Wolverine as, a big fluffy puppy with bad teeth. ... Wait, that's someone else... Ah, well, you get the picture :) Plus, I'm hoping that I can get a fun little spanking session out of either Wolverine or Logan (hopefully both if I can manage it) since Marie came before she was supposed to. I'm not one for full-on, real "orgasm-denial" play, no thanks, but when your dominant, feral mate gives you a direct order, I'm pretty sure you're expected to follow it. So, that's in the offing, maybe a couple chapters away! Send me your love, sweetpeas, in the form of reviews! I **must** know what you're thinking, what you hate, etc!_


	15. Chapter 15

_Well, I suck, I'm sorry it took so long to get this up! It ended up not begin, as I'd assumed it would be, the morning after. Apparently Wolverine wanted his blowjob and didn't want to wait very long for it. So I hope you enjoy it! Don't worry, unless some other random smut pops into my head, I have to figure that our two loverines are done for the night._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

Logan came to his senses, discovering the unusual sensation of the Wolverine sliding back into the lower levels of consciousness and handing off the memories of what had gone down while he, Logan, was out. For a few minutes, he just laid there, absorbing what the Wolverine was passing to him, images and sensations of taking Marie from behind again, his teeth clamped on the spot on her neck that was quickly driving her wild… His own voice snarling in her ear that she could only come when he did. Ordering her to lick him clean when he was finished. That memory popped his eyes open and he turned his head to look at his companion.

She lay on her belly, her breathing still erratic and panting.

"M'rie." His voice was rough and he felt like it'd been a week since he'd hand anything to drink.

From her spot, face buried in the bed, she moaned, the smell of her that of a well-loved female.

Eyebrows arching in cocky amusement, he reached over and used a hand on her shoulder to pull her over onto her back. She rolled limply and Logan felt another surge of pride that he was able to pleasure her so well that she was nearly boneless from it. Even sated to her toes though, her eyes were alert enough follow his when he looked from her mouth then pointedly to his softened dick. To narrow at his cocky, expectant expression.

"Better wipe that smirk off your face if you want me to follow that last order of yours, sugar."

His own eyes narrowed at her sass, but he quickly changed his strategy. Dropping onto his back, he sighed, "Yeah, don't worry about that, kid, he didn't really think you'd do it. It's not something I expect from you, you're a nice girl. You gotta learn, sometimes a man'll say all kinda filthy things when he's wantin' to get off. So don't you worry, I'm just gonna grab a shower." With that, he made as if to roll out of bed.

A small hand on his arm stopped him. Looking over his shoulder, he shot her a questioning look. Under his calm exterior, Logan was chuckling and the Wolverine was rumbling in anticipation.

 _ **Good little Mate wants to prove she can do it. Let her prove she's woman enough, then explain to her that she needs to follow orders.**_

For the first time in as long as he could easily remember, Logan didn't try to shove the voice into the corner of his mind but responded. _She'll fuckin' do it, girl's got more brave than brain, 'specially when it comes to us._

The Wolverine snickered in his mind, pulling up memories of her sassing him minutes after meeting him, dropping next to him on a couch when everyone else huddled yards away. Reaching out to him as she hung on his claws. The last one brought shame from the Wolverine, as he'd been driving when that had happened, but Logan, in another unprecedented action, forced the rest of that memory, made them remember her reaching to cup his face so gently. No one but the two of them knew she hadn't been reaching for his factor but to comfort him. They didn't talk about it but it was the bedrock of their relationship, that ability of hers to offer comfort to those she loved.

For a moment, remembering that sweetness and goodness, Logan almost felt bad about tricking her, but she _was_ a sassy little thing and she had to learn to follow orders.

 _ **For the good of the pack.**_

 _Riiiiight._

Marie was glaring at him. "Wolverine doesn't think I can do it? What, does he think I don't know what I'm doing? Thinks I can do it as good as one of your barflies? Well, fuck that horseshit, roll over, damn it!" Her accent was thick with indignation. Logan wanted so badly to point out that she was demanding to be allowed to suck his cock, but he figured that if he actually wanted his cock sucked, he'd better not say anything at all. No need for an angry Marie unafraid to use her teeth down in that area. Sure, the healing factor would fix him up, but he'd never tested to see if he could actually grow body parts back and he was pretty firm on not ever testing it.

"Well, sure, darlin', alright." He kept his voice as innocent and agreeable as he was able; it was not a tone that came naturally to him, but he tried his best. The throbbing in his cock was probably not helping his innocent act, but he hoped she was just huffy enough to overlook that.

 _ **Just need to keep her in the dark until it's too late for her to turn back.**_ In his head, the Wolverine was pacing, anxious to get his hands in Marie's hair and her soft lips around his cock.

 _She's gonna be mad when she figures we tricked her into it. Not like it matters, but she's prolly gonna be real pissed._

 _ **She'll get over it. We gave her an order, so she knows, somewhere in there, that she was doing this no matter what. And hell, just look at her, looks like she's headed off to battle. Shit, better warn her to watch those teeth!**_

Logan couldn't tear his gaze from Marie as she, scowling blackly, moved to kneel between his legs. He tried to keep the smirk off his face as she reached out and gripped him with a firm hand. No, nothing shy about his girl when she'd got her dander up, not at all. However, the Wolverine was right, she had her teeth exposed a little fiercer than he usually liked coming at his dick. So he wrapped one hand in her hair and gently forced her to pause.

"Take care with those teeth, darlin', I don't wanna lose anything."

She just huffed and sort of flapped at hand at him before she took a breath and, _Jesus FUCK_ , dove at his cock.

Logan sat bolt upright on the bed, his own teeth clenched tightly against the snarling groan that wanted out of his throat. In his head, the Wolverine howled. Marie had just opened her pretty mouth and taken him in, no teasing licks or soft kisses. Just straight for the gold, she jumped right in, and, novice that she was, it was sink or swim. God bless her, she was swimming.

Artlessly she worked her mouth over him, moving her head up and down, letting her tongue slide across the head of his shaft as she moved. The occasional scrape of her teeth as she struggled to keep her lips around the sharp edges just heightened his pleasure with snappy little kicks.

Since she was pretty engrossed in it, he just leaned back with his hands resting on her head.

 _Fuck, she's so good at this._

 _ **Good Marie, look at her licking us so sweetly. Deeper, presser her deeper.**_

Logan figured that was a damn good plan and he tugged her down a little and bucked his hips up a bit. When she gagged around him, he saw stars and the Wolverine's thoughts broke from solid words to overwhelming sensations and emotions. The love and lust and need that washed over him and he lost his grip on his body; with a hot suck from Marie, he felt himself slide into the passenger seat of his mind, where he still felt every move of her mouth on him.

" **Harder, girl."**

 **Marie froze in her motions for a moment and made to lift her head. Heavy hands in her hair kept her in place. Around the obstruction in her mouth, she murmured, "'Ol'r'ine?"**

" **Yeah, kit, it's me. Focus here." A small thrust to remind her what she was supposed to focus on.**

 **Again she tried to raise her head and he snarled at her. "Don't you fucking move from that cock, you got it?"**

 **She made a mumbling noise he took for irritated female sounds but he just shrugged it off. Let her rip his hide with her sharp tongue, but** later **, when he wasn't focused on the wet heat of her around his cock. When he made no move to let her off, she dug her teeth a little into him, not enough to damage but enough to get his attention. Wolverine growled angrily and yanked her down even harder, bucking his hips up to press deeper than he'd gone before. This time when she gagged, he threw his head back and moaned while he held her.**

 _Let her up! Don't scare her so much on her first run out, can't you smell her?_

 _ **Fuck, shit!**_

 **Quickly he used his grip on her head and pulled her up and off, breathing deep and catching the combination of anger, arousal, and an unpleasant burst of fear.**

" **Kit, calm down, take it easy. Breathe, take a couple deep breaths now, scent me."**

 **Her eyes stared at him and he didn't figure she was going to do as he asked. Just as he resigned himself to pulling her up and cuddling her, and his poor cock to a lonely night, her nostrils flared and he could tell she was pulling on his senses; God, he loved that there was a part of him permanently inside of her. While she breathed, he focused on his feelings for her and hoped they filled his scent: love and affection, concern, and the lust that didn't fade, even now.**

 **When she closed her eyes and laid her head on his thigh, he stroked her head, rubbed her neck. She smiled and he tugged playfully on her ear and asked, "You alright now, kit?"**

 **Marie nodded, paused and appeared to consider, then nodded again. "Yeah, sugar, just fuckin' gag reflex you know. If you didn't have such a big cock, it wouldn't be such a problem!"**

 **Wolverine smirked down at her and used a grip on her hair to guide her mouth back to his still-throbbing dick. "You weren't complaining so much when it was buried in that hot little cunt of yours, were you? Now, put that sassy mouth back to work, Mate, you gotta learn to keep your mate happy."**

 **The ballsy kit rolled her eyes as she gave him a quick lick. "Sure, sugar, that's my life's goal, keeping you happy."**

 **His hands grabbed her shoulders and he hauled her up and took her mouth in a hungry, bruising kiss. Before Marie could really begin to respond, he ripped his lips from hers, gave her a sharp nip, and pressed her back to her knees on the floor. From her spot between his legs, she panted up at him but he just grinned and used a hand on the back of her head to nudge her towards his cock.**

 **The spunky little kit began to smart off again and he just thrust his hips up and filled her mouth with his dripping cock. She sputtered and gagged for a second. Wolverine kept firm hands in her hair and didn't let her gag herself again; his girl was so feisty, she'd probably manage to choke herself out before she broke again. But he was her mate so it was his job to protect her even from her own aggressive nature so he made sure to keep a good hold of her.**

 **Though she was new to this –** _Fuck yeah she's new, my Marie would never suck some other asshole's dick!_ _ **–**_ **she was doing it very effectively. The occasional gags he couldn't – didn't – prevent just tightened her throat around him. Her nails dug into the muscles of his thighs and his head tipped back, just immersing himself in the pleasure of his little Marie's hot mouth on him. Those pretty lips of hers finally wrapped around his shaft, something he and the human had fantasized about for more years that was acceptable, at least by the human's standards. Fourteen and a bit, the age she'd been the night she yelled out a warning and changed both their lives, was much too young for the human to move in on. All he himself had seen was a strong, fertile, lovely girl who he'd instantly recognized as "Mate". But they'd waited years for her and now here he was thinking about his past instead enjoying the blowjob his mate was so sweetly giving him.**

" **Goddamn!"**

 **Marie lifted her head and shot him a cocky smirk. "If you were here with me, Wolvie, I wouldn't have to use my teeth."**

 **He snarled and rubbed one wide palm over her face, scrubbing away the grin. She just chuckled moved down so she could suck on the balls that tightened painfully a the first touch of her lips. One of her hands continued to stroke his shaft while she licked and sucked. The sight of her on her knees pleasuring him, the feel of her mouth and tongue and –** _Holy motherfucking hell_ **– her teeth were all pushing him over the edge. His breath panted in and out and he felt the orgasm building.**

" **M'rie."**

 **The tone of his voice got through to her and she lifted her head to look at him. "I'm gonna come, little Mate."**

 **When he didn't continue, she just gave the tiniest nod and slipped her mouth around the throbbing head of his cock, letting it lie on her tongue while she stroked his shaft with one hand and reached down to squeeze his balls.**

" **Fucking hell, kit, suck me. God yes just like that. Deeper, Mate, use my cock to fuck your throat, I wanna feel you gag around me, pretty noises you make with me balls deep in your mouth. Suck me down, swallow my cum like a good mate. Your hot mouth is so sweet, almost as sweet as the fuckable little cunt, dripping with cum, running down to that cute little asshole. I'll fuck that too, Mate, and make you scream so nice." His hands tightened on her skull and he slammed deep, letting out a howl as he exploded in her mouth.**

 **Natural that she was, his Marie-mate sucked firmly to drain him dry. When he finally stopped pulsing in her mouth, she lifted off him, freeing his cock with a "pop". She smiled up at him from her spot on her knees and licked her lips with a wicked wink.**

" **Sweet feral Jesus, M'rie," Wolverine panted.**

 **She sputtered with laughter and leaned forward to give him another quick lick. With his hands still in her hair, she affectionately nuzzled his softening cock and laid her head in his lap.**

 **He let her stay there while he caught his breath. It might have taken a few hours but finally he had his breath back and he hauled her up so she lay on the bed with him, her head now resting on his shoulder.**

" **Heart's still pounding there, Wolvie." She stroked a hand over his sweaty chest.**

" **Grrrrrrr…"**

 **Her scent sprouted a slight amount of amusement at his expense and he slapped a hand on her ass with another growl.**

" **Don't push it, kitling." With a small groan, he rolled onto his side and wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her into the curve of her body.**

 **Her hand lightly petted the arm around her, tracing the muscles up to the hand that splayed across her stomach. A rumbling purr sounded as she gently dragged her nails over the space between his knuckles. All that metal in his hands, so close to the surface, was sensitive and he loved when she stroked him.**

" **Wolverine?"**

 **He lifted his face from where he'd been nuzzling her neck. "Yeah, kit?"**

" **I love you, you know that?"**

 **The arm across her tightened and pulled her even closer to his body. "Yeah, Mate, I know." He said nothing more for a time and Marie closed her eyes to sleep; she knew he cared for her, wanted her. Knew Logan loved her. If her Wolverine didn't ever say it, that was fine. The silence stretched so long she was sure he was asleep himself when he finally pressed a light kiss to the nape of her neck and murmured into the soft skin, "I love you, too, Mate, more than I knew possible. More than I thought I had in me, loved you for so long. Sweet Mate, love you, love you."**

 **His voice trailed off and Marie fervently hoped he had fallen asleep. She didn't want him thinking that the tears his words had drawn were of sadness. Closing her eyes to sleep, she marveled at the idea of being loved so deeply and fully by her enigmatic, dangerous Wolverine. Poor Logan, was her last thought, he really needed to get on board with sharing her with Wolverine, this two-minds-one-body bullshit really needed to stop!**

* * *

 _So, I hope you all enjoyed that! I'd started this out and wanted it to be pretty racy then it was all namby-pamby and I was getting pissed with myself, so I'm trying out a little more vulgarness... Not sure I'm happy yet or with this choice but I'll get there eventually. Maybe. Oy. Anyway, this was a fun one for me and I hope you all feel the same :)_

 _Also, I have this random idea for a highly AU oneshot, so that may be appearing in a week or two. Yay! Feed back is glory, trade for a story?_


	16. Chapter 16

_Hi all, glad you all enjoyed the three smutty chapters in a row! Finally we've gotten to the morning after, going to have everyone celebrate the blossoming love of our two gentle souls. Yeah, right, like that could ever happen! The course of true love never did run blah blah bob loblaw, and all that. Enjoy!_

* * *

The morning dawned cool and sunny on the two new lovers still curled in bed, Logan's hand cupped possessively around one of Marie's breasts. He was just beginning to stir from the warm nest he'd made for them out of pillows and blankets and was hoping to slip out of bed without waking her. With any luck, he thought with a mental head shake as his morning wood throbbed, he could go take a leak then go get food before she woke up. Maybe he could manage to slip enough food out of the kitchen for both of them.

 _Fuck yeah, providing for my mate and shit._

 **Floppy bread things.** **And bacon.**

Logan snorted at the Wolverine's suggestion; the animal didn't bother to learn much about food that wasn't a form of protein, but yeah, pancakes sounded pretty damn good. Maybe grab a bottle of maple syrup to go with them, the real stuff he hid from the swarm of locus masquerading as children. See if he couldn't talk Marie into letting him drizzle her in it after they finished off their pancakes…

He snuggled in for just a few more moments of holding his sleeping girl before getting up. She was so very worn out from the night he'd put her through. It was a damn good thing he had a healing factor, he considered, otherwise he wouldn't be able to pull off his role of man-of-the-world-nothing-affects-me Wolverine. If he were any lesser man, his girl would have him limping from the rides she'd given him.

 **Our mate is worthy in all possible ways. Strong, fierce, loyal, and armed with a deadly weapon that can incapacitate even us. And she loves us.**

 _Yeah, she's pretty much got it all. We don't really deserve what she is but I ain't willin' to give 'er up._

The Wolverine in his head snarled at even the thought of losing Marie and Logan felt a kind of kinship with his brainmate he couldn't remember feeling since he woke up at Alkali Lake. Two was better than one if she needed defending, he decided. Not that she couldn't defend herself but if he had his way then she wouldn't ever need to. Part of his job as Mate, after all. Like getting food. Sighing he began to disentangle himself from the blankets and the soft Marie-bits.

Then for the second time in as many days, he was startled straight out of bed. He'd have fallen on his face again if he hadn't forgotten to compensate for a second person in bed with him. As it was, he ended up falling flat on Marie as she, jerked from a sound sleep, tried to scramble to a sitting position. The force of the impact knocked all the breath out of her and she gasped for breath as Logan viciously cursed.

The heavy furious pounding on the door that had ruined his cozy morning continued, unabated.

"Logan! Logan, wake up and get your butt in gear, the Professor needs to get his limo out of the garage but your truck is blocking the whole thing. Why the hell is it in the middle of the drive with a dead battery anyway?"

Logan, thoroughly annoyed at having his chances at syrupy morning sex yanked away, snarled under his breath. When Marie had to press a hand to her mouth to keep her giggles in, he snarled at her. Raising his voice to be heard over the _continuing_ knocking, he snarled at Scott. "Scooter, what the fuck do you think you're doin'?"

"I was looking for Rogue, she wasn't in her room so I thought she'd be jogging. I went to check the trail and found your damn truck plopped in the middle of the drive. What the hell were you thinking, just leaving it there, with your lights on and all? And where is Marie, Jubilee says she hasn't seen her since she left her at the bar with you. Did you make sure she'd gotten home safe when you came in?"

While Scott had been blathering, Logan had taken the opportunity to reposition his girl and himself so that he was lying much more comfortably in the cradle of her hips. Now he was nibbling around her ear while he waited for Summers to shut up and leave them alone. "Yeah, mother hen, I made sure she was all tucked in safe and sound before I fell asleep." Marie flushed bright red at the words but Scott just continued talking like Logan hadn't spoken.

"I can't understand where she's gone to, she doesn't like to miss the Professor before he has to take these trips of his. I know she worries about him and I was really hoping to talk with her this morning. So you're sure she was in bed before you crashed? I checked and it looked like no one had slept in her bed."

Oh that was fucking enough; Scooter had no right to be in the kid's space and it made his blood boil. The whole mansion was going to find out soon enough as it was, what did it matter if he showed One Eye right now that he didn't need to ever worry about Marie again.

Snarling like the animal he had inside of him, Logan surged off the bed and stomped to the door. The vicious scowl on still on his face, he swung the door wide and stood there, unabashedly naked, hands curled into fists as he stared at Scott.

And realized that he'd been so wrapped up in the smell of his little mate, all sated and warm, that he hadn't noticed Scott's scent being joined by that of Jean. And the sparkplug. And 'Ro. And the Professor, accompanied by Hank. Or his brother, who stepped out of his own room to lean against the door frame and watch the show.

 **Fuck.**

 _Fuck._

"Fuck."

* * *

 _Yup, that's a good place to end it. :) I'm hoping that perhaps we can bring in the maple syrup later. What with Logan being a Canadian and all, I thought that it might be appropriate. Or maybe it's sacrilegious to them? I'm sorry, I don't follow the doctrine, I'm Ca-gnostic. (Get it? Come on, that was funny!) Also, if anyone recognizes the phrase "floppy bread things" it's because I shamelessly plagiarized it from MorganOfTheFey's companion pieces "Big Bad Wolf" and "The Bad Habit" (good stories that I'm certainly using as a basic pattern.) I get a lot of inspiration for my characters from her writing and that of Lachlanrose ("Shine Against Me" would be my Holy Stanley Cup if I believed in a higher Canadian). So, I hope you all enjoyed this quick little one! Love, DotBC :):):)_


	17. Chapter 17

_Hey guys, sorry it took so long to post this. Too be honest, I had another bug pop into my head so I've been trying to write it. But mostly it morphed from a quick little blurb to a 14000 word about an alternate world a couple centuries ago where mutant slavery is still legal and all mutants are considered fair game. It had potential and I have hopes for it. But I need to get this story out first. I still have grandiose plans about it being a nice long story with everyone paring off and finding happy endings and maybe all of Jean's hair falling off. Or something like that. Anyway, again, sorry it took so long and I hope you all enjoy the morning after :) Love, DotBC_

* * *

For what seemed like an eternity Logan stared at the group gathered in the hallway. It was a rare thing for the Wolverine to be caught with his pants down – literally. Then he surged farther out the door and slammed it behind him, still fully nude. As the door banged closed, the hallway erupted into chaos.

"What in the world is going on here?!" Jean's shrill question didn't quite manage to drown out Jubilee's exuberant shriek of "Way to go, Roguey!" accompanied by the cheerful _pop-pop_ of her fireworks.

Scott's contribution was a shouted, "You fucking son of a bitch!" as he shoved Logan back against the door. Since he wasn't expecting the attack, Logan stumbled back and thunked into the door. Before he could snap his claws out and bury them in Scott's chest, the smaller man was yanked off by a clawed hand on the back of his collar.

"Sorry, Scooter, but no one gets to beat up on Jimmy but me." Victor's voice was as calm as if he were discussing the weather as he shoved Scott a few feet down the hall. Though he watched dispassionately as Scott climbed back to his feet, the older feral kept one clawed hand on Logan's chest, keeping him pressed to the door.

Composed and serene as they ever were, the Professor, Hank, and 'Ro stood observing the pandemonium in the hall. Just as the Professor was raising his hands to call everyone to order, the door Logan was leaning on was hauled open, making him stumble again and fall on his ass with a heavy thump. From above him, his Marie sent him a little smile as she stepped, dressed in her jeans and tank top and one of his flannel shirts, over his prone body.

"How you doing out here, sugar?" Her voice was pleasant but the scent pouring off her was a bizarre mix of serenity and fury. Logan jumped to his feet as she moved into the hall. He snarled when she moved to stand in front of him, shield him, and grabbed her arm, hauling her to the side so they stood shoulder to shoulder. She lightly rubbed his gripping hand. When she looked back at the crowd in the hall, her eyes narrowed at the sight of Jean, 'Ro, and Jubilee all staring well south of Logan's boarder.

"Eyes on me!" Power snapped like a whip in her voice. The hallway people snapped to attention. Logan felt his own spine stiffen in response; out of the corner of his eye, he saw even Victor's shoulders straighten before he deliberately slouched back. The Rogue in full sway now, she shrugged off the flannel shirt and handed it to Logan. "Cover up, hon, these girls can't handle the sight of you."

As he wrapped the shirt around his waist, Rogue took a fighting stance, legs spread, hands hanging at her sides, bare fingers spread. Her best weapon unsheathed. The current of power still crackling in the air, she continued gently, "Now, I trust you all have a good reason to be gathered around Logan's door this morning?" Locking eyes with the Professor, she watched him, authority to authority.

The Professor watched her back with his customary tranquil expression. "Good morning, Rogue. I hope we didn't disturb your slumber." His cultured voice was as easily affectionate as it always was when speaking to her.

Her little smile told him the point hit home but she just replied just as serenely, "Not at all. I heard Scott say something about your leaving for Washington, I'm sorry I wasn't there to say goodbye like usual."

"As you see, I haven't left yet so we haven't missed our ritual, my dear." She gave him a very small, warm smile and he nodded to her. "But I do have to be going, they are expecting me."

Moving away from Logan, she crouched by the Professor's chair and clasped his hand in hers. It was their goodbye, a quick moment of connection before they separated. Long ago, when she'd started this ritual after the Liberty Island, she'd explained to Logan that the Eric in her mind, though she kept him locked up, still have overwhelming feelings for the Professor. The being away from him made her anxious over and above her own feelings for him.

Giving her his calming smile, the Professor patted her hand. Going from affectionate father-figure and old friend to leader of a band of vigilantes, he turned his head to speak to Scott. "Scott, I trust that you will respect Rogue and Logan's privacy in this matter." As Hank, strong and silent as a Cookie Monster man can be, wheeled the chair down the hall to the elevator, the Professor called back over his shoulder, "I have no desire to come home to find you skewered on adamantium claws, my boy."

Scott sputtered in rage and missed Logan's whispered, "You'd never find the body, Chuck." Hank and Victor both heard, judging by the small hitch in Hank's step and the snort Victor let out. Marie twitched when Scott spun to Victor, his hand at his visor. The feral continued to lean casually on the door frame, insouciantly dismissing the danger.

"Try it, boy, and I'll just pull those laser-beam eyes from your skull. That's if Jimmy doesn't just slice that head right off first."

Storm gasped out Logan's name in shock, her first comment of the morning, and Scott spun on his heel and found himself eye to tip with Logan's claws. Jean shrieked and threw herself on Logan's back, clawing at his arm while Jubilee yelped, "Wolvie!"

From the end of the hall, the Professor called evenly, "Logan, I must ask you to not decapitate Scott. Without him, no one will teach the advanced algebra classes."

With a grunt, Logan _snicked_ his claws back in and turned away. Scott opened his mouth, began to blurt out something. In a heartbeat, Logan whipped back around and planted his fist in the other man's face. The surprised look on Scott's face as his eyes went blank then rolled up into the back of his head was balm to Logan's anger. Stepping back from the unconscious man, he gave Jean room to drop to her knees, wailing like a banshee, beside him.

As he turned to Marie he caught the wide-eyed speaking look she shared with Jubilee and he smirked. Leaning toward her, he was caught off balance and fell flat on his ass for the second time that morning as Jean snatched at the shirt around his waist and any exposed skin she could reach.

"You bastard!" She slapped at him for a few seconds while everyone, save the unconscious Scott, stared in stunned silence as Jean forgot all the training, physical and telekinetic, she'd had and resorted to girl-fighting. Logan, desperate to keep her clawing fingers away from his exposed manly parts, struggled to cage her hands without hurting her too badly. When her scarlet nails bit into the soft skin just a hairsbreadth from his balls, he let out a distinctly unmanly yelp. The next second, Jean was hauled upright and off of him.

Surging to his feet, he found her bent nearly in half and pressed to the wall as his Rogue fisted a hand in the red hair. But Jean had apparently remembered her training now as all the doorknobs in the hall began to rattle. On Jean's shriek, Rogue was lifted off her feet and smashed into a door. Proud of her to the core, Logan watched as his girl never let go of the older woman, though Jean did get a hand free and swiped her nails over Rogue's face before getting a hank of the wild bi-colored hair, screaming viciously all the while.

Logan could see the moment the kid came to the conclusion that Jean wasn't going to settle down anytime soon. He could nearly hear her mental sigh and even at this distance he thought he could feel the electricity when her skin turned on; there was that lightning again. With deadly precision, Rogue brought her free hand up and gently cupped the screeching woman's cheek. For half a second everyone froze, waiting, and nothing happened. Then there was a streak of ozone in the air as Jean let out a strangled gasp and collapsed onto the floor next to Scott.

When Rogue's head came up, her eyes blazed with internal fire and her hair whipped in a wind only she could feel. Logan could feel the humming of her new power in his bones. In that moment, his girl was a goddess in her own right, and it was nearly all he could do to keep from dropping to his knees to worship her.

The intensity of the moment was snapped by Jubilee blowing, and popping, an enormous bubble of gum.

"Well hot damn, Roguey, what the hell are you gonna do with Jeanie in your head?"

Logan was staring into his wild Rogue's eyes when Jubilee spoke and he saw the black wings flutter for a second. Before her fingers could flick out to shove Jubilee back, he snagged her mouth in a distracting kiss. For just a moment, he could feel someone – something – not his girl in the kiss, could taste the ashes, then it was all potent Rogue and sweet Marie. When she nipped his lip, he let her mouth go. She grinned up at him and mouthed a thank you, still watching him as she spoke to Jubilee.

"Well, Christ, Jubes, I'm gonna learn to throw a knife with my mind, what else? Plus," she added, smirking at Logan, "that little mind reading trick of hers is going to come in real handy, now that I got to keep track of my man."

Jubilee burst into laughter and little sparklers popped out into the air around her. 'Ro sighed as she crouched to the floor. "Jubilee, honey, please stop, I don't want to have to deal with a fire up here one top of everything else." Still snickering, Jubilee forced the sparklers down to just the occasional pop. "Thank you. Logan, would you please help me get these two back to their room?" She gestured to the unconscious couple.

Logan snarled and tugged a grinning Rogue closer and 'Ro lifted her hands in defeat. She sighed and began to tug at Jean. Victor moved silently and 'Ro let out a gasp when his clawed fingers took the arm out of her grasp.

"I've got them, frail. The hormone-driven monsters that live here are going to be up pretty soon…" His head tipped to the side as he obviously listened to the sounds of the mansion. "Some of them are already in the kitchen. One of them is sneaking the good coffee so you better get on down there and ride herd on them."

For a minute, it looked as though the weather witch was going to protest, but Victor just lifted Jean from the floor and hoisted her over his shoulder. When he stooped to grab Scott's arm, she quietly murmured her thanks and strode down the hall, heading for the kitchen. Once she was out of sight, the big feral dropped the pretext of lifting Scott and released his grip on his wrist, letting the arm fall and smack the still-out-cold mutant in the face, making Jubilee burst into muffled snickers again.

With a quick grin for the irreverent girl, he looked to where his brother still held his young mate. Stared at them for long enough that the Rogue, still burning hot, turned her head to stare back with a cocked eyebrow.

"Victor?"

"Stripes." His fangs showed when he grinned at her. "Fucking all night seems to agree with you, but you got a little something…" His fingers gestured to his own throat and in reaction, Marie raised her hand to her neck. Then went crimson at Jubilee's uncontrolled laughter and the feel of the raw patch Logan and Wolverine had marked through the night.

Victor was still laughing as he reached for Scott's arm again and started dragging the Fearless Leader and his woman down the hall to their room. With her unintended little fireworks still _pop-poping_ , Jubilee hurried to open the door for him. Dumping Jean unceremoniously on the bed and leaving Scott sprawled on the floor, Victor paced around the room, examining the pretty little frilly things Jean decorated with. When he picked up a blown glass paperweight shaped like a phoenix and broke off a chuck of its tail, Logan sighed. Resting his forehead on his girl's, he called to his brother, "Creed, what the hell are you doin'?"

"Leave 'Tooth alone, Wolvie, he's a cat, he can't help it." Marie joined Jubilee's laughter and Logan and Victor let out nearly identical growls, which only made the two girls laugh harder.

Victor snagged Jubilee's arm and propelled her out of the room and closed the door behind them. Still pushing her, he called back over his shoulder, "Come one, runt, bring your frail. If you're gonna fuck her all night long, you gotta feed her in the morning."

Logan snarled under his breath, calling his asshole brother all the foul names he could think of until his Rogue tugged his head down and took his mouth in a long, slow kiss. When she pulled away, she licked her lips and sent him a saucy wink.

"Why don't you put some clothes, sugar, I don't know if all the kids can handle seeing the Wolverine in all his feral glory." She patted his ass and followed Victor and Jubilee down the hall to the stairs, leaving her man grumbling about "too damn many people" and "better leave me some fuckin' pancakes."

* * *

 _So, what did you all think? I wish I could have explained Marie's transition to full-on Rogue better. I wanted her to go from nice, normal girl to fire-breathing hellcat just boiling with power. I don't think I fully captured that, but particularly liked the "eyes on me" moment. I can just picture her drilling newbies in the Danger Room with that drill sergeant voice. Or maybe turning the tables on Logan in bed... who knows. We haven't gotten to any spankings yet, I'm trying, I'm trying. But I hope you all enjoyed Rouge and Jean's cat fight, I really don't like Jean so I'm happy to make her seem all girly-pushy-shovey, rather than the full out brawl that the Rogue would instigate._

 _Also, before I get any hate mail about it (though, bring it on, I can take it *dances around with clenched fists*), Victor and Jubilee are not going to hook up. She's happy with Remy and Victor enjoys and relates to her irreverent attitude. :):) Love you all, you wonderful people you, send me back your love!_


	18. Chapter 18

_Sorry it took forever to get this chapter up! Now, I promised no angst so just take this with a grain of salt and know that I just like Victor and Remy's interactions. Plus, it lets Wolverine out to play a little :) Enjoy_

* * *

During breakfast, Jubilee was her normal bubbly self and managed to draw Marie, calmed down now, into conversation. However, no matter how Jubilee poked or prodded, nothing was going to make the blushing Marie spill any details in the middle of the crowded dining room. When Logan began growling at her for making Marie anxious, Victor used a clawed hand on Jubilee's shoulder to control her bouncing.

"Much as I'd love to hear every detail of Stripes finally getting it high and hard from Jimmy," he said with a sarcastic flip of his wrist, "the runt over there is about to stab you from across the table. And that would piss Stripes off. So just shut the hell up for now and have your girly talk later."

Jubilee turned to scowl and snap at Victor. He ignored her sniping and gave a fanged grin. Just as Jubilee was getting the impression that not all was right in the dining room, Remy grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her out of her chair. Shrieking in surprise and batting at his hands, she stumbled and nearly wiped out. Only the white-knuckled grip the Cajun had held her upright.

"Remy!" Her piercing voice rang through the room and a sudden silence followed it as everyone swiveled to see what was happening; it was well-known that Jubilee was always good for some entertainment.

"What?" the gambler yelled. "You think Remy don't see you pulling away from him? You think he doesn't see you making eyes at _ce putain de chat_? That he'll just let you go without a fight?!" As he yelled, violet flame gathered around his hands and sparks flew. Everyone within fireball range scrambled back to safer ground as Victor turned in his chair to face the furious man, his face carefully blank.

Logan watched the scene and felt his whole body tense in anticipation of joining the fray, though at the moment, he couldn't honestly say which side he was going to take. Creed was his brother, and after the night before he felt more comfortable with him than ever before – not actually comfortable or brotherly, but more so than he'd been before doing his best to get roaring drunk with him. But the swamp rat was his teammate and Chuck would probably be pissed if Logan let Creed shred him. Before Logan could make up his mind, the other feral broke the silence with a laugh.

The entire dining room held its breath as the dreaded Sabertooth tipped his head back and howled with laughter until his face, the parts not covered in hair, turned red and his body shook with it and his fist pounded the table. Marie tucked her face into Logan's shoulder to smother her own laughter as her feral grumbled about his "batshit bastard brother" and slouched back down. Downing his cooling coffee, Logan gave Creed a kick under the table, earning himself a one-fingered salute from his still laughing brother, but Creed did begin to subside. Eventually he was down to a few chuckles.

As he wiped his damp eyes, Creed stood and waved a hand at Remy and Jubilee, both of whom were still just staring at the feral as if he'd gone insane again. Jubilee sputtered out a choked laugh but Remy's fire flared higher. " _Flus le camps et morte,_ you ass. _"_

Creed just grunted and gave him a cold shoulder as he moved past the couple.

"'Ey, _manger ma bite, vous putain chat."_ At Remy's shouted curse, Creed turned back and gave snatched him up by the shirt.

"Take it easy, you damn coonass, I don't want your girl, alright? You may not get it, but we're friends and I don't wanna fuck her." He dropped the smaller man back to his feet and shot Jubilee a darkly sexy smile. "Sorry, sparkplug, no insult to you, you're just not my type. I like my women a whole hell of a lot softer and more obedient than you, so you and your swamp rat don't have anything to worry about on that score."

Rubbing a clawed hand over Jubilee's dark mane of hair, he strolled lazily out of the dining room, leaving a silently laughing Jubilee and a Remy who was visibly shaking, still shimmering with purple fire. There was still no noise in the dining room, not until Remy let out an "Argh" of rage and blasted the plates and cups off the table where Creed'd been sitting. Marie let out a yelp as a shard of broken porcelain caught her on her cheek.

Logan sprang to his feet, claws _snicking_ out with a yell. Marie grabbed the back of his shirt as Jubilee jumped in front of Remy and shoved him backward.

"Remy, what the _hell_!?" Her voice was furious and had none of the normal cheerfulness that was so _Jubilee_. She planted both palms on his chest and gave him another shove, knocking him back a couple of steps. "'Tooth is my _friend_ , what the fuck is so hard to get about that?"

"Jubilee, _chérie…"_

She cut in before he could continue. "No, don't you " _cherie"_ me, Remy, I love you but I will not have you insulting my friends! And did you see what you did to Roguey?"

Remy, flushed with anger and shame, looked over both Jubilee's and Logan's shoulders to see a small trickle of blood running down Marie's cheek as she dabbed at it with a napkin and tried to make Logan sit back down.

" _Mon Dieu_ ¸ Rogue, Remy, he is so sorry, you know?"

She gave him a small smile and a little wave with the napkin. "It's fine, Remy, I'll survive."

Logan snarled when Remy gave her a grateful smile. "You're lucky I'm not hauling Yellow out of the way and shredding you for that idiotic stunt. Now, you get your ass out of here." Remy gave a jerky nod and went to take Jubilee's arm. Logan beat him to it and pulled her back behind him to stand next to Marie. "Hey, no, you leave her here until you've got yourself calmed down, I ain't taking a chance that you're gonna lash out and hurt her like you just did."

Marie thought for a second that Remy was going to fling another fireball but the heat in the air suddenly subsided and he dropped his head, face flushed again and he just nodded silently and made his way quickly to the door. For a long moment, silence still reigned in the room before the kids started to talk and rattle dishware again. When he felt a tap on his shoulder, he turned around to face the young women. Marie had an arm linked in Jubilee's and an approving look on her face when she glanced up at him." He gave her a little nod and looked at Jubilee.

The normally effervescent Asian girl had look on her face that translated to either "fury and humiliation" or "extreme constipation". Given the circumstances, Logan had to figure it was the former. As he watched, she pulled herself together and turned to Marie and hugged her fiercely before she pulled away and rubbed lightly over the scratch on her friend's face.

"Oh, Christ, Marie…" Her voice was so soft, Logan almost didn't catch the use of his girl's real name.

"Jubes, it's fine, honey, I promise. Look, I'll flick on Logan's factor and it'll be just a memory, ok? No worries, it's ok, really." She hugged Jubilee again before the yellow-clothed girl tugged away and surreptitiously wiped her damp eyes before she looked at the scowling feral. "Logan, I'm so sorry to you too. Thank you for stepping in, but I have to go talk to him."

Logan's scowl got darker as he looked from girl to the other. "Are you sure, Sparks?" Clearly he was willing to go beat the hell out of Remy if either of them wanted him to. She nodded and cleared her throat saying, "Thanks, Wolvie. I'll see you after lunch, Roguey." On the way to the door, she bounced as best she could but they could both see it wasn't her normal jounciness.

When Logan looked back at Marie, she was still staring after her friend; she gave a little jolt when he gripped her shoulder and tugged her to face him.

"Log –" She broke off when he dipped his head, eyes glowing gold over hazel, and licked at the little spots of blood on her cheek. When he let out a low rumble in her ear, she rubbed her nose against the scruff on his cheek. "It's ok, sugar, it didn't really hurt."

" **The damn man didn't protect you, Mate. Want me to kill him?"**

 **Marie shot him a quizzical look and asked, "Logan or Remy?"**

 **Wolverine rumbled a rough laugh in her ear and –** "Hey, kid, he ain't the only one here, so watch your mouth before I turn you over my knee."

 **She choked out a laugh as Logan interrupted and Wolverine added, "I'm gonna turn you over my knee anyway, little Mate." He nuzzled her chin and nipped at the soft skin. She could feel the smile on his lips when she whimpered. "The human and I are in full agreement that we're very much going to enjoy it, kit… But for now, that other human, he hurt you and the yellow one you love, do you want me to go kick his ass?"**

 **Tugging him to sit back down at the table, Marie leaned into his side and handed him a plate with a stack of pancakes. "Oh, sugar, I think Jubes is gonna show him the error of his ways just fine without our input. Now, my mighty Mate, have you ever had pancakes and maple syrup?"**

 _Hope you enjoyed an angry Remy :) Plus Wolverine gets to eat his floppy bread things, so we all win! Though I'm not going to write it, believe me that Jubilee is going to go find Remy and rip him a new one for not trusting her and for causing a scene at breakfast. Yellow maybe a cheerful and bouncy person in general, but she doesn't like having her friends insulted. In my head, they fight then frantically make wild bunny love. Then everything is nice and easy, though Remy still doesn't like it when Victor manhandles Jubes._

 _Send me reviews to show your love.. or your hate, whatever you need to get off your chest. Love, DotBC:)_


	19. Chapter 19

_Hi, all you lovely, lovely people! So, I may be even slower than I've been, since I'm going to adopt two dogs! YAY! But I'll still be posting, I promise, I'm really enjoying writing for you. So here's after breakfast for our lovers. Just so you know, I won't be detailing every minute of every day, we'll just forward sometimes :) So, enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

 **Once their breakfast of pancakes, bacon, and hash browns, Marie having introduced her skeptical Wolverine to the deliciousness that was fried potato slivers, was completed, he tugged her out of her chair and into the relative privacy of the foot of the staircase leading to the upper level. When he rumbled a suggestion for how they could spend the rest of the morning in her ear, Marie had to suppress a shiver and an automatic agreement.**

 **Pressing a hand to the wall of his chest to fend him off, she said sadly, "Wolverine, God knows I'd love to play with you all day but the kids can't keep missing their morning Danger Room runs." Seeing the darkening of the gold-over-hazel eyes, reading the disappointment there, she moved closer and said, "Maybe Logan would let you take part in the simulation. Have you ever been in on one before?"**

 **He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak –**

"No, kid, I ain't lettin' him out to run in the Danger Room. He wouldn't get that it's just a simulation and someone's gonna end up hurt and I don't have the patience to deal with a dozen screamin' preteens this morning." Logan had a stern glare on his face when he interrupted to speak.

Her own patience abruptly reaching its breaking point, Marie moved her hand from his chest and took a firm grip on the bulge outlined by the tightness of his jeans and used it to pull him closer. "You listen to me and you listen good, Logan. I am getting real sick of this attitude you have about Wolverine, that he's this dumb, violent creature that can't understand anything and can't be trusted with anyone. Do you think I'm such a foolish little girl that I would make such a mistake as to trust him with my life if he didn't deserve it?" Squeezing the hard flesh she held, she added, "That I'd trust him with my body if I didn't love him and trust him the way I trust you?"

Logan started to speak but she just rolled right over him, saying, "I trust him that way because he is you, Logan, and it's making me crazy that you don't see that. For years I've been waiting for you to come together with him and I've let you be because I didn't have a right to force the issue, but I damn well have that right now so you better start making some progress, you got me?"

He burned her with a withering glare and snarled, "It ain't that fuckin' easy, kid, it's not like I can just decide to sync up with a mindless animal!"

Even as he said it, he could see the fire in her eyes and knew she was right to be furious.

He'd been right there during their breakfast and quiet conversation, hadn't he, riding along in an unusual shotgun position instead of being shoved into a black room in his mind. It was just those first fifteen years of letting the Wolverine out only to hunt and fight, relying on him whenever mindless violence was needed that colored his mind. But now more than twenty years, thinking of the passenger in his mind as just that, separate and distinct, it was a habit that was damn difficult to break.

Marie's eyes blazed and she balled her free hand, the one without the death grip on his family jewels, and smacked his chest. The blow rebounded and he supposed he should be grateful that she didn't change her fist to metal again. "Listen to me, James Logan Howlett, I don't know if you consider me your mate or not, but I fucking know that Wolverine does, so I'm not going to put up with this shit. You make this work, you find a way to work with him, or there will be almighty hell to pay, do you understand me?"

For the second time that morning, Logan felt the lash of authority in her words and his years of soldiering nearly forced a "Yes, ma'am" from his lips. But he just nodded curtly and lowered a hand to drag her clenched fingers off his throbbing cock. Had to stifle a groan as she didn't relax but forced him to drag her fist down his length until he was free of her. When he was free, he leaned his head down, still gripping her wrist, and snapped his teeth a hairsbreadth from the pulse point in her throat.

"You don't give me orders, kid, we've talked about this." When he heard her breath shudder out with a tiny quaver, unwilling to cave but unable to keep it totally in, he rubbed his stubbly cheek over hers. "But I'll work on it."

"You'll let him in on the Danger Room session?"

A clenched jaw and fierce glare was her only response.

 **As she watched, the hazel eyes glimmered with a film of gold and Wolverine watched her quietly. "Did he do that just to get out of answering me?" Her own eyes were narrowed and full of suspicion.**

 **Wolverine let out an amused chuff then cocked his head as if listening. When he looked back at her, he was smirking. "Says to tell you 'don't push it, kid'. Now me," he continued, sidling closer and pressing her into the wall, "you can push all the time. I'm just going to push back, my fiery little Mate."**

 **Barely managing to hold back her moan at his words, she groaned and pushed him back from her so she could gather her wits again. "Seriously, Wolverine, the kids need the Danger Room time. Have you ever watched him run one?"**

" **You don't think I can do it?"**

 **She hid her smile at the offended tone and patted his chest. "No, that's not what I mean, I just mean that you have to actually let the kids be in danger. The only way the lessons stick is if the kids understand that failing to learn and follow orders is going to hurt. So you can't just go in and rescue them all willy-nilly."**

" **I do nothing willy-nilly, kit, I am the Wolverine."**

 **She couldn't help the silly grin she knew she had on her face at the sound of her manly-as-hell Wolverine saying "willy-nilly." "Sure, sugar, of course not. Not that I really need to be concerned about you rescuing them, huh?" They both knew that Wolverine, and Logan for that matter, were more than willing to let the cocky kids get their just desserts if they wouldn't follow their orders.**

 **Wolverine just gave her a wolfish grin and turned her to face the stairs. "Go on and get changed, kit, we still need to have our own private Danger Room run later." He gave her a sharp slap on her ass and turned on his heel.** At the door, he turned and, eyes gone nearly fully hazel again, said, "Don't make me come looking for you, kid." With that somewhat ominous order, he headed off down the hall that led to the more superhero-y areas of the school like the Danger Room, the weapons gallery, and the Blackbird's hanger.

Marie was chuckling as she started up the stairs, only to spin around halfway up and trot back down. With a cheerful wink at a faintly scandalized 'Ro who was loading the massive dishwasher, Marie snatched the dispenser of maple syrup off their breakfast table and dashed back up the stairs. Still smirking, she deposited it in the bedside table in her bed room and went into her bathroom to grab a quick shower before her first class, all the while hoping that Logan trusted her, and himself, enough to let Wolverine out to play with the kids.

9-9-9-9-9

As he made his way past classrooms and science labs down to the less conventional type of schoolroom, Logan had the unusual experience of arguing with himself, as opposed to arguing with the Wolverine. He could feel this brain buddy sitting quietly in his mind, waiting for him to decide if he'd let him out for the Danger Room run. Logan could almost picture him, head tilted to the side as he waited, mildly curious about the outcome.

And it was not just the Wolverine! Logan could just imagine his girl glaring at him, hands on her hips, one eyebrow cocked in that look she'd stolen from him. She'd probably be tapping one of her feet and making him feel like an asshole for not trusting her, but damn it, it was hard! And it wasn't like he didn't trust her, even, he just felt like he knew the violent creature better than her. But …

Christ, he was weak when it came to the kid.

Fine, fine, fucking fine! The bastard could come out. He could traumatize and torture the snotty brats for all Logan cared. What did it matter to him if some of the little monsters got more banged up than usual. Like Marie'd said, a little fear was the only way some of people learned.

Logan didn't realize that he'd growled out loud, or that he'd reached the door to the Danger Room, until a squeaky voice jerked him out of his thoughts.

"Mr. Howlett, sir, um, what is fine?"

"What?" he barked at the fifteen year old kid who'd addressed him. His classmates all took surreptitious steps away from him, leaving him alone in an empty space. The kid blinked furiously and his face went faintly greet. No small feat that, Logan mused, considering the kid was covered in stone-gray scales.

Stammering, the kid began to babble, but Logan cut him off with an abrupt motion. "Never mind, Pebbles, we're runnin' late and I got somethin' fun for every one today. Now most of the gathered young people blanched and turned varying shades of gray. The first lesson kids new to Xavier's School For The Gifted learned was: don't abuse your powers. The second was: Mr. Howlett doesn't play by the rules.

Punching a pre-developed training sequence into the Room's control panel, Logan authorized it and shoved the door wide. As the apprehensive kids followed him into the frozen sequence, Logan shifted into teacher mode. This was not very different than his everyday mode, he just didn't growl quite so much when people asked him questions. Unless they were really stupid questions.

"We're going to work on forest terrains, tracking, hunting, avoiding detection. The best predators in the forests and mountains, who are they?"

One kid, a girl who could detect electrical currents in the air, raised her hand. When Logan nodded at her, she answered quietly, "Wolves?"

"What else?"

When she blinked at being addressed again, Logan looked around for another victim, but turned his attention back to her when she said, "Mountain lions."

Not a member of the excessive-praise school of teaching, Logan just nodded. "What makes those two species good at what they do?"

This time, another girl raised her hand. Her gift was an amazing sense of direction and a homing capability; she also had a talent for reading the stars like anyone else would read a map and she was one of Logan's favorite students. "Nebula?"

"Wolves hunt in packs, right? And the cats have stealth on their side."

He ignored scent of attraction coming off her and the heat he could nearly feel from this distance radiating off her coffee-colored skin. "Right. Those are what we're going to work on today. But I'm not gonna be the one teaching." The disrespectful kids all began to talk at once, except Nebula, whose real name was a rather plain "Mary Cook" and who just looked a little dejected.

Snarling at the noisy, nosy kids, he quickly stepped back mentally, letting the Wolverine slip into place. **The growl ripped through the growing noise and all the teens shut up with a gratifying speed. "My name is Wolverine and I'm going to be your substitute teacher today. Now, I want you to divide into two teams…"**

Suddenly much less apprehensive about the whole thing, Logan sat back in his new copilot seat and prepared to watch the fun.

* * *

 _So, what did you think? I hope you enjoyed a having another girl realize how great Logan is :) Not that that's uncommon, of course, just I don't think that many teenagers would love being run raged by an angry Wolverine. But I particularly like her, since she'd be very outdoorsy and tuned into her surroundings, something I think that Logan and Wolverine would both respect and approve of._

 _I also want to address my choice of having Marie teach history, instead of the art classes she so often teaches in these stories. I like to think that will all those people in her head, access to any information they may have had, she'd have a good handle on all sorts of history._

 _Also, for future reference, just how crude can I make Creed? I have a fun little scene with him in my head but I'm not sure how we'd feel about it :) So (thought I hate when authors beg for reviews, I totally get it because I'm like a junky for them now), pleeeease let me know what you're thinking so far, what you love or hate or think I'm doing wrong. Let me know! Love, DotBC :)_


	20. Chapter 20

_Hi! I love you guys for the feedback, it means so much to me! Please, keep it up :D Here's the next chapter, just some more fun. Enjoy._

* * *

Almost two hours later, Marie, just finished with her second history class of the day, leaned against the wall opposite the door to the Danger Room. From behind the oak-paneled steel door, the sounds of battle cries were clearly audible. Finally the time wound down and Marie heard the sounds taper off into silence, the Danger Room light going from blinking red to solid green. Patiently, she waited.

At last, the heavy door swung open and a dozen kids ranging from twelve to sixteen trouped out looking the worse for wear. Some were bleeding from shallow scrapes, two of the girls seemed to be holding back tears, a boy with gray scales appeared to have fallen into a body of water at some point. The last student out of the room was a whipcord-thin black girl with ebony braids that looked, and smelled, like they'd been partially burned off. Despite the small tendril of smoke that curled forlornly off the end of the shortest braid, the girl, Nebula, American History Monday and Wednesday afternoons, grinned broadly. The grin faded when Nebula saw Marie, but she mustered a polite smile.

"Ms. D'Ancanto."

"Hi, Nebula, have a good Danger Room run?"

"It was just fine." Turning back in the open door, she called, "Thank you, sir, it was just wonderful to finally get to meet you!" Sparing Marie as last, cool look, Nebula moved quickly down the hall.

As Nebula's words, Marie squeaked happily and dashed into the Danger Room to launch herself at the man standing there. He roared with laughter as he gave her a quick spin then dropped her back to her feet with a thump. Gold eyes glittered down at her as she grinned up; he returned her grin but his slowly faded back to his normal, more stony face.

"I can't remember the last time I laughed like that, Mate."

At the nearly accusatory tone, Marie lightly punched his chest then wrapped her arms around him again. "I'll do my best to make you laugh more often, how about that?"

With his own arms around her, he lifted her off the floor so they fit better together. When she gasped at the sudden pressure at her core, he smirked. "You're welcome to try, kit." When he tried to kiss her, she turned away and wiggled out of his grasp, strolling away from him with a smile over her shoulder.

When he began to stalk her steps, she womanfully suppressed a smirk, instead pretending to not notice his movements. "I suppose I can try different tactics to make you laugh. Are you perhaps…ticklish?" She knew full well that a certain grouchy feral was hilariously ticklish under his ribs. This time she couldn't stop her lips from tipping up as he froze and straightened out of his crouch, his eyes warm gold over hazel now.

"You wouldn't dare." Marie felt her knees go a little weak. There, right there, teasing him about tickling, they were both there. Human and feral personalities combined into one united mind. How far he'd come in such a short time, to go from only being bonded in anger and violence to sharing the mind in such a happy little moment with her.

When her eyes clouded with tears and she let out a tiny sob, her man leapt forward and pulled her tight to his body, hands rubbing long, soothing strokes down her hair and back. "It's ok, kit, it's alright." The words were her Wolverine's but the voice was Logan's and she just bawled harder. "Kid, Mate, come on, stop it." There was panic, the inherently masculine kind of fear in the face of female tears.

Goddamn it, why was she crying?! He'd done what she asked, hadn't he, he'd managed to share his mind with the Wolverine instead of one of them forcing the other away. Only the fact that he couldn't smell any sadness or pain in her scent kept him from losing his mind, though he still cuddled her in and rubbed his cheek over her. When the need to lick her tears away flowed over him, Logan didn't wonder at it, just went with it.

Marie's eyes flew open as his tongue startled a damp laugh out of her. From a heartbeat away, Logan's eyes glowed with gold flecks, like sunlight in the forest. With tears still damp on her cheeks, she yanked his face to hers and took his lips in a fierce, heated kiss.

Thoroughly confused by her sudden switch from playful to crying – why the _hell_ had she been crying anyway? – to scorching, he wasn't fool enough to turn down the chance to get his hands and mouth on her again. With a little jerk, he boosted her up higher and pressed her to the wall of the Danger Room, lifting her so she was over him, her long hair, still damp from her earlier shower, curtaining their faces. When she brought her hands up to his face and stroked her fingers over his bristly muttonchops, he rumbled into her mouth.

God almighty, he was good, felt good, tasted good. Everything about him made her burn for him. Just knowing that she had the two of them together, with her fully in that moment, just made it all the hotter and she wanted those flames to burn them both up, right here, right now.

She'd just begun to trail nipping kisses up his jaw in a meandering path to a tasty-looking earlobe when a gasp and a clatter brought her head up. Over the top of Logan's head, the wild hair fairly bristling with aggravation, Marie glared at a gaping Bobby and a beaming Kitty. Bobby ignored the coffee that was pooling at his feet from the Thermos he'd dropped; since she'd managed to hang onto the plates and mugs she was carrying, Kitty hugged them to her chest and rocked in a kind of self-hug as she grinned at Marie. When Bobby, still gaping, pointed at them, Kitty laughed and snatched at his arm.

As she tried yanked him out the door and Marie lowered her head to continue the interrupted kissing, Jean came striding through the way she always did: like she was a queen making a grand entrance, long legs moving quickly, red hair flowing down her back. Unfortunately for the haughty air she was trying to project, and the two kissing, she bashed into the fleeing couple. This caused Kitty to drop everything she was holding.

Shards of porcelain from the plates and mugs, their cheerful tinkling an odd counterpoint to Logan's ragged breathing and Kitty's muffled laughter. Logan dropped her back to her feet and turned to block her with his body. She could see him tense and she knew it was in anticipation of a roar for them all the get the hell out. Considering everything she'd rather be doing with him than explaining the situation to all the people who'd certainly come running, Marie decided it would be best for them to beat a hasty retreat instead of making a stand. With that in mind, she snaked a hand out and pinched his denim-clad ass. Hard.

A big hand reached back and clamped like a vice around her wrist and he yanked her up beside him. Ignoring everyone else in the room with magnificent unconcernedness, he hustled out the door, hauling her along. As they passed Kitty, Marie sent her a grin.

At Kitty's whispered "You go, girl!" Logan gave the girl a snarl. Kitty wasn't fool enough to reach out and pat his arm but she continued her little huggy dance. Logan gave up trying to be intimidating and just dragged Marie out the door. Marie's hand reaching back into the empty doorway to wave goodbye sent Kitty into gales of laughter that followed the couple down the hall to the elevator.

After administering a vicious poke to the elevator button, Logan yanked Marie so she stumbled around in front of him. Still snarling, presumably at having been interrupted, Logan gripped her hips and boosted her up again. Breathless, from kisses and having the breath knocked out of her by being smacked against a hard steel door, Marie desperately kissed him back. When her fingers gripped his hair and used it to pull him closer, he purred against her lips. Then he let out a very un-Wolverine-like yelp as they went tumbling to the floor of the elevator when the doors slid open behind Marie's back.

Now even more breathless – fucking hell that metal was heavy! – she shoved and pushed at his shoulders until he groaned and lifted off of her and slid fully into the elevator. Turning over onto his back, he pulled her up so she sat atop him, straddling his chest. Using the advantage being on top gave her, Marie leaned down and took control of the kiss, licking and sucking at his lips, lifting away when he tried to deepen it. Laughed breathlessly when he cursed her teasing ways. When he began to threaten her with tying her up and torturing her until she was boneless and begging, she nearly melted off his chest like butter on a hot pan.

Neither of them had actually bothered to punch the button for their floor so they were both surprised when the elevator jolted then slid smoothly up to the top floor.

An annoyed looking Scott scowled down at them where they lay tangled on the floor.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! This is a school! I might have expected this from you, Logan, but did you have to go corrupting her so quickly?"

Logan surged to his feet and hauled Marie to hers in a smooth show of muscles. Baring his teeth at Scott, he made a threatening move toward him but small, strong hands gripped his belt and tugged him away and through the doors towards his bedroom.

"Yes, Scott, he's corrupting me but don't you worry, I'm gonna have a talk with him about it right now."

Logan sent a leer over his shoulder as he followed Marie. "Yeah, Scooter, we're gonna have a nice, _loooong, hard_ talk about all the things I'm plannin' on teachin' her."

The door to Logan's bedroom slammed shut on Scott's gurgles of protest. "Sugar, you're always teasing that poor Boy Scout; you've got a mean streak, you know that?" She smiled when she said it.

"A mile wide, kid, but you know how to handle me, don't you?" He prowled closer as he spoke, a playful and predatory light in his eyes.

Out of instinct, she backed away from him, matching him step for step. When she suddenly came up against a door and could go no further, she had to swallow past the sudden boulder-sized lump in her throat. He heard the gulp and let his smile curve his lips. "You alright there, kid?"

She nodded. As he watched, her breathing went shallow and her pupils blew wide. The scent of smoke and heat and hunger poured off her and he growled in appreciation.

"Com'ere, M'rie." His voice was dark and dangerous and oooh, so enticing. She shook her head and fumbled with the door knob, her fingers trembling with the force of wanting him. He took another step towards her and she managed to fling the door open and jump behind it. It closed with a bang as Logan leapt forward and smashed into it.

For a moment all Marie could hear was her own heart pounding and her ragged breathing. Then there was a shuffling, rustling noise and Logan's voice crooned through the door, "Whacha doin', darlin'? You don't have to be scared, kid, I'll take care of you." His voice dipped even deeper until she could feel it resonating in her chest, even with a door between them. "I'll make you feel so good, kitling, take such good care of you. Stroke you and pet you and make you purr so sweet for me, little Mate. Come on back out so I can make you feel good, little one."

Caught between the hysterical urge to giggle at Logan whispering sweet nothings to a door and wanting to melt into a puddle of Marie-goo as the heat in his words, it was all she could just to stand there and hold herself still and quiet.

Her poor hear was thundering like mad. He could hear it clear as a bell through the heavy panel that separated them. Could smell her too, hot and sweet so ready for him. But he didn't mind playing the game, sure as hell didn't mind making her so crazy with lust for him that when he took her, she'd shatter at just a touch. The Wolverine purred at the sweet spicy Marie-smoke that curled out from under the door.

"Open the door, kit, let me touch you, kiss you. Let me trace every inch of you, map you out. Just want to taste you, Mate, lick every bit of you until I know you inside and out." She was caving, he could hear it in the little panting breaths and the tiny, mewing noises. "Come on out, little girl, come on…" he coaxed.

He heard a small thump and could picture her sitting with her back to the closet wall, all hungry and hot for him but trying to control it. "Marrrrieee…"

A gasping groan, a quiet hum… "Logan..!"

A smirk of triumph curved his lips and he stealthily turned the knob and tugged the door open. There she was, his girl, on the floor. But not curled in on herself like he'd thought, but with one hand down the front of her pants, the other fumbling with the buttons of her shirt.

"Marie." His voice was stern, carefully void of the heat that was blistering him. Her head jerked up and green flames burned in her eyes. "Hands up, kid." She didn't respond to his order, in fact continued her frantic movements, her fingers playing her body frantically." He could hear the noises her fingers were making, knew she was wet, dripping for him.

On hands and knees, he crawled until he reached her booted feet. Gripping one ankle, he yanked so she sprawled on her back; moving quickly, he arranged her so she was spread open, legs on either sides of his knees. Still hurrying, he _snicked_ out the claws on both hands and sliced through her clothing. He wasn't proud of it but his own hands shook from his need for her and he wasn't as careful as normal when stripping a woman. In the tiny space of the closet the smells were overwhelming him, her desire, the wet heat of her, the copper tang of blood. He couldn't even use her pain to keep him grounded; every time his claws went deeper than fabric, she arched and whimpered out his name.

On the last swipe, when he accidentally drew one long cut down the length of one thigh, and a scream from her, he gave up and dropped down to cover her body with his. One hand gripped her wrists and forced them up and over her head while the other fumbled with his buckle and zipper. Finally free from his restricting jeans, he founder her dripping opening with his swollen cock and thrust deep. Felt her part and ease for his entrance and groaned, slowly, so so slowly withdrawing from her tight body.

"Logan, goddamn it, fuck me!"

He smirked down at her. "Oh, I'm gonna, kid, I'm gonna."

As he began to thrust deep and fast, one still-booted foot kicked out to hook around the open closet door. With a jerk, he slammed it close just in time to muffle the sound of her first scream.

* * *

 _This was just supposed to be a little fun for our two favorite mutants, a little annoyance from Bobby and Kitty, Jean and Scott. Plus a little playful sexytime, which I assume everyone enjoys sometimes. Otherwise, why would you be reading this? Personally, I don't read smut if I don't enjoy smut, but whatever. Different strokes for different folks and all that :) Personally I like my smut fun, dirty, and a little kinky. I'm aiming to get Marie tied up in the next sexy times. I'll see what I can do about that._

 _For now, please, pleeeease let me know what you think, I **adore** your feedback. Many hugs from me and my new puppy (a German Shepard mix named Fizzbin). Love, DotBC_


	21. Chapter 21

_Hi, all you lovely people. I hope you're all fairing well, maybe stating classes again. Good luck, those of you still in school :)_

 _So, ok, for this chapter, some of you are gonna be annoyed with me. I know I've gotten a few reviews from people who hate Victor and don't want to have anything to do with him. And I'm sorry (not sorry) but that's where I felt the story was going, so that's what I wrote. Thus, this chapter is going to be a little Victor-centric and even has him as the main man for most of it. And, really, those of you who dislike Victor so much, please, keep reading, I promise it's not going to become his story, I just really want this character in the story to bring out a new side of him. I'm actually planning on writing some of the stuff I won't put in here into it's own story (probably just a one-shot or something), so he gets his own and doesn't have to butt so far into his brother's._

 _Anyway, here's chapter 21_

* * *

Minutes later, Victor was at the door to his own room when muffled sounds of laughter reached his ears. Jimmy's laughter? Damn, it'd been a long while since he'd heard that unguarded sound. For just a second, he listened, a smile curving his own lips. Then he heard the unmistakable sounds of a woman's moans and the slick, wet noises of sex. The smile morphed into a grin and, on a spur of the moment decision, he flung the door to his brother's room wide, intent on scaring the crap out of the pair. And only his feline reflexes kept the door from slamming noisily into the doorstop when he didn't immediately see his brother and his mate on the bed.

Frowning, he glanced around, though his senses told him that Jimmy and Stripes were in the closest. Why the hell were they in the closet? Jimmy had a massive bed right there, why would he have shoved Stripes into a dark, cramped space to fuck her? Just to make absolute certain that it was Jimmy and Stripes – with their scent all over the room, he wasn't sure he'd smell anyone but them and God forbid it be someone else and Jimmy found out he didn't stop them – Victor crossed to the closet and tipped his head close.

Just about that moment, Marie let out her second scream of the day. So surprised by the sudden and earsplitting noise was he that he let out a snarling yelp as he jumped back from the door. From inside the closet, he heard a muffled curse from Jimmy and the shuffle that spoke of limbs untangling. There was a low murmur that he pegged as Stripes but it was too muffled for him to hear. However, Jimmy's annoyed snarl of "Creed" was only too clear. Though he'd rip the throat out of anyone who knew it, he really didn't want to fight with his little brother, not now. Beating up on each other was one thing, a normal brother thing to do, but anymore, their fights invariably ended with one or both of them nursing mortal wounds and frankly, he was getting tired of it.

So, for once in his live, Victor decided that perhaps wisdom was indeed the better part of valor; with that in mind, he bolted for the door. As it closed behind him, he heard the closet door bang against the wall and Jimmy shout for him. Deciding that going down the hall would be too confining, and give his brother too much of a chance to catch him, Victor slipped into his own room across the hall and out the window, stopping just long enough to grab his coat from the unmade bed. Feline feral that he was, it was no stretch for him to leap from the narrow window ledge to the branches of the enormous old oak a few feet away. Swinging from one, he held for a moment then dropped lightly to the ground, landing in a crouch.

When no angry spiky-haired head popped out of his window, Victor nodded in satisfaction and strode off towards the woods at the edge of the manicured lawn. See, he thought to himself, the mansion was nothing but trouble. Even when he was on his best damn behavior, he did things to piss off the other members of the X-Geeks. The urge for a cigar came over him, a habit the brothers shared, and he patted around in his pockets, hoping to find one left that he'd overlooked.

Cursing, he patted in vain. No cigar and even if he had one, he didn't have his lighter anyway. Fuck it all.

"Oh-oh, what's this?" From the inside breast pocket, he tugged out a key ring adorned with a flashlight and a tiny pocketknife and a steel X with a small engraved "R" in the center. Marie's keys, the ones he'd forgotten, in all the drama this morning, to get back to her. "Well, it ain't like she needs them just now."

Seeing as how she never needed to know he'd borrowed her truck, there was no reason no to. And who the fuck cared if she did know, what was she gonna do, sick Jimmy on him? No scratch that, she'd take him on herself. And she was no scared fourteen year old kid anymore, she could probably kick his ass. What the hell, if she was pissed and came after him, it'd be sure to be an interesting fight.

Smirking and already planning his strategy for fighting the Rogue, he strolled around the mansion in the direction of the extensive garage. Unlike his idiot brother, he'd actually managed to park the truck in its spot before heading for bed. Though to be fair, Jimmy had certainly had other things on his mind.

The thought of his brother and Marie finally getting together did weird things to his insides. Things that made him all warm and have thoughts about Pack and all that crap, which really wasn't a good thing; Sabretooth didn't do family shit.. Instead, Victor preferred to think about how fucking sexy Stripes had looked last night when she sauntered into that bar, that harness cupping her chest and those long, strong legs in tight jeans and tall boots. Even if he preferred his women more sweet and timid than her, he could appreciate a hot, dangerous woman. No wonder Jimmy hadn't been able to do more than give any other woman a quick fuck in a dirty alley or sleazy motel room since he'd picked her up on the road.

Victor wondered, not for the first time, how Jimmy'd managed to keep his hands off of her for so long. He could see waiting until she was eighteen, Xavier would have had kittens if Jimmy'd brought her to the school and installed her right in his bed, but how had he avoided jumping her bones the night she legally became an adult? Not that legalities or other men's onions mattered to Victor; if it had been his mate – God forbid – Victor didn't think heaven or earth or the X-Men could have kept him from taking her at once. That was the thing about ferals: once they found their mates, the need to take and claim and mark was overwhelming, completely beyond control or rational thought.

Thank God he'd never had to deal with all that bullshit, and if he were very, very lucky that wasn't something he was ever going to have to deal with. All the Pack crap he figured he could put up with was Jimmy and Stripes. Of course judging from the noise he'd already heard her make, he wouldn't be too surprised if they announced she was pregnant with a cub soon. God, he didn't know if he could handle being "Uncle Victor". Just the thought of some snot-nosed kid calling him that gave him the shivers. Maybe he ought to talk to Xavier about moving out of the mansion proper, somewhere where there weren't people all over the damn place. Maybe there was some cabin or shed he could fix up and move into.

Preoccupied with thoughts of a tiny little cabin that was his, all quiet and away from the noisy, smelly kids, he hopped into Marie's little green truck. Grimaced at how cramped it was, even with the old bench seat scooted all the way back. Grumbling under his breath about getting his own damn transportation pretty fucking quick, he slid the gear shaft to Reverse and gunned it out of the garage and down the drive.

And cursed viciously when he slammed into something that gave with a sickening crack, followed immediately, since the truck couldn't stop on a dime, by an ominous thump.

For half a second, he debated just driving on. But no, _fuck it all,_ he was supposed to be one of the good guys now, and it was part of the Boy Scout's _Guide To Being Good_ that you couldn't run over people and just leave them there.

Still cursing, he slammed out of the truck and bent to haul the body out from under the truck bed. And was slapped full in the face with the best thing he'd ever smelled in his life, all flame-and-rain and female. Even the wash of coppery blood stirred him up, made him want to lick her all over.

"Motherfucking hell!" What the fuck was wrong with him, there was a girl bleeding out in front of him and he was sitting there thinking she smelled edible. He grabbed one limp arm where it lay and used it to carefully pull her out from under the truck. Winced at the sight of a tire track across her abdomen. Out in the open like this, the smell of her was even stronger and he could feel it wreathing his senses, clouding his mind, but he had to focus to keeping her alive long enough to figure out what the hell it was about her that was making him crazy.

With one hand pressed to the torn flesh on one thigh, trying to stem the flow of blood he recognized as coming from the femoral artery, his other fumbling for his belt to make a field tourniquet, he tipped his head back and roared for Jimmy and for Jean. Though he maybe wasn't close enough to either of them to hear, there were plenty in the school who would hear and would hurry to get help.

Within minutes they were there, Logan wearing just in jeans and Marie wearing his shirt and boxers. The doctor, who, if her venenous looks at the couple were any gauge, had _not_ been getting some afternoon delight, was more traditionally dressed in her normal slacks and crisp blouse.

Victor had to give her credit, though, she dropped to her knees in the mess that comes from blood and gravel dust on the other side of the girl and snapped out an order a report.

"You ran over her?"

The accusation in her tone struck too close to the guilt he was already feeling so he snarled back at her. "Why the fuck was she in the drive way? Aren't all your kids supposed to be in class now?"

From up by the girl's head, where he was holding back her hair for Marie to put pressure on the oozing wound on her scalp, Logan took a deep breath then murmured quietly, so the kids gathering around couldn't hear, "She's not one of ours, Creed. Marie?"

"No, I've never seen her before." Victor heard her take a deep breath and figured she was pulling on Jimmy's powers. "Logan, is she..?"

There was a moment of silence then he agreed, "Yeah, she is. Jeanie, she's a feral."

Victor didn't look up from where he was looping bandages around her bleeding thigh. "No, she's not, her healing factor would have kicked in by now. Even if she had internal injuries to take care of, the femoral artery would have been the first thing fixed. And," he spat, "it's clearly not healing since she's still fucking bleeding, doc!"

"I'm doing what I can, Victor, we just need to stabilize her until we can get her down to the med bay."

They worked in silence while all around them, the other X-Men tried to keep the throng of kids away from the scene. Over his shoulder, Scott called, "Jean?"

The doctor took a long look at her patient then called, "We're ready," to Scott. Victor was close enough to hear her add, "I hope," under her breath. Ignoring her, he bent to lift the woman into his arms. A cool hand on his arm stopped him. Jean snatched hand back with alacrity when Victor bared his teeth at her, but she still said forcefully, "No, she shouldn't be jostled around; let me…"

Her eyes went dark as she pulled on her power to lift the injured woman out of Victor's arms and into a fully supine positon as if she lay on a stretcher. Moving swiftly, the foursome hurried along to the mansion, relying on their teammates to keep the students away, all of whom were pressing close in an attempt to see the dam age, ghoulish creatures that they were. By the time they'd reached the side entrance, the most direct route to the med bay, all but a few stragglers were gone; not many were brave enough to face both Scott's calm insistence and Victor's vicious growling and inventive cursing.

Once in an exam room, Jean moved to gently lower the woman, but the shouts of the more persist ant students suddenly just outside the door broke her concentration and the hovering woman dropped. Logan and Victor both lunged for her. At the furious snarl from his brother, Logan let go and backed up until he was shoulder to shoulder with Marie.

With more care than Logan had ever seen him employ, Victor set the injured girl down on the table, grimacing at the rustle of the paper under her as her limp limbs settled. As soon as she was down, he stepped back, trying not to show his discomfort at being down in the medical area of the school. Logan wasn't the only one whose memories of labs were less than pleasant. Instantly Jean was there with her assorted and sundry medical instruments and both male ferals backed up a few steps. Marie rubbed her hand over Logan's shoulder and moved next to the girl.

"Jean, can I help?"

Jean's head came up and she spared an annoyed glance for Marie. "I need another trained doctor, Rogue, not someone with first aid training."

Gently, though her own annoyance was clear, Marie responded, "I learned what I needed to this morning, Jean, remember? Now, let me help you."

For a second, Victor thought that Jean would still refuse the offer, but her need to heal was stronger than her anger at Marie, and she nodded stiffly. "Start with her head, get that gash sewn up."

Marie only nodded and reached for a suture kit. Competently, since she'd already known how to place stitches before absorbing Jean, she worked quickly, laying small, neat stiches with a steady hand. Moving from the girl's head on down, she began to clean and stich a six-inch gravel-embedded scrap on her neck.

"Logan." Marie's voice was sharp as a blade and Logan was instantly at her side, pulling her away from the girl as he looked for whatever had put that tone in his girl's voice. Victor was a step behind his brother. Marie tugged away from his arm and pointed at the girl's throat. There, what they'd all taken for a necklace of overlapping silvery scales lay. "I can't be sure but…" She trailed off and Logan tugged her farther behind him.

"It's a suppression collar." Jean's voice was cool, as if she weren't discussing the most hated from of technology invented. "It's what's keeping her healing factor from fixing her."

Victor reached for her throat before anyone could stop him but as soon as his fingers touched the metal, his nails shrunk and his skin smoothed. Gritting his teeth, he held fast and tried to force the collar to snap.

Marie watched in horrified fascination as the collar took grater hold of him; the skin of his arms lost the rough golden hair that covered them and sleeked out. His canine teeth, exposed by his grimace, visibly shrunk and dulled. His eyes, with their gold flecks and ever-so-slightly silted pupils dulled. Grabbing one of his arms, she pulled at him, trying to get him to release the collar.

"Logan!" At her strident demand, Logan jerked his eyes off his brother and looked at Jean. "Help him get that off, she needs her healing factor." She paused then quietly added, "She's lost too much blood. Without it, there's nothing more I can do."

With a _snick_ , his claws unsheathed and he slide one hand under hated collar. Gently, he moved his hand up and away from the girl's throat, avoiding his brother's hands, which hadn't released their hold on it. At the point where he lifted the collar off her neck, he moved to cut smoothly through it. And stopped with a jerk.

Everyone held their breath as he pulled his hand up again, but once again, there was no give. Marie let her breath out in quiet groan. "Adamantium."

"Yeah." Logan's voice was a grunt.

"Can you do it, runt?"

Logan snarled at his brother and strained on the collar. Bracing himself, he placed one hand next to Victor's on the collar to get a better angle on it. The feeling of his powering be negated was horrific, like every cell in his body were being emptied and he'd never felt anything like it. Hauling hard on the collar, he lifted the – thankfully still unconscious – girl's torso off the table with the force he was exerting.

"Hold her down," he ground out through gritted teeth. Victor instantly let go of the collar and moved to press his hands to the girl's shoulders. Her bloody shirt protected her skin from his claws, which began to grow back as soon as he stopped touching the damn collar. Marie watched as his fingernails lengthened, curved a little. After a few seconds, Victor took one long, deep breath and she could see his relief on his face. God, for Victor show such emotion, the collar must truly be nightmarish.

She hoped to God Logan could do this.

Watching Logan strain, she began to think of other options. "Maybe we should call for Eppie, she might be able to help."

"Can't," Logan gritted out, "Can't get it up to temp."

"Even if we could, adamantium can't be melted once its hardened." Jean's voice was calm and cool. "If Logan can't cut through it, there's nothing we can do to help her."

"Transfusion?" Marie knew she was stretching it.

"She's lost too much blood already, and she's going into shock. Ferals don't have exactly the same physiology that other people do. Often, they are quite sickly when they are young, as the body is without much in the way of humoral or cellular immune system. That's why there are so few, after all, so many die before their healing factors can kick in. Perhaps its nature's way of keeping the top-of-the-food-chain predators, so to speak, at a reasonable number." She seemed to have slipped into lecture mode.

"Shut the _fuck_ up!" Victor's roar made Jean jump backward and let out a frightened little squeak. "Do you really think we need to know that she's going to die if we can't get this off? Do you think we don't know that?"

"Goddamn it, Jean, if you can't be helpful, get the fuck out of here!"

Both ferals spoke at once and Jean gave them both reproachful glares. "It's not as if I don't want to help her, there's just nothing we can do!"

"Christ, get out of here." Marie'd rarely heard Victor sound so dangerous.

"Really, Victor, this is my lab, you cannot expect me to –"

"I said, _out!_ "

With another furious glare at him, Jean fled the room while trying desperately to look as though she'd meant to leave at that moment all along.

"Marie, is there anything – "

"No, nothing. I don't have any mutations that can help. You're just going to have to force it. But I'll hold it, sugar, that way you'll at least still have your strength."

"Kid, are you sure?"

"Goddamn it, Logan, I can't just do nothing! Let me try to help." She slipped her naked hands next to his one and gripped fast.

Gingerly, he took his hand away and drew in a long slow breath as his strength and factor flooded back. Bracing his right hand on his left wrist, he hauled hard. And let out a groaning "yesss" of satisfaction when his claws slid a few millimeters through the collar. "Just…a little…bit…more."

Moving in counterpoint with him, Marie began to rock the collar against his claws in a sawing motion as he crooned to her. "Yeah, girl, harder. Just like that, just a little more, almost there, darlin'. That's my good girl, M'rie, such a good little girl."

"Logan, God!"

"Jimmy, would you stop the fucking sex talk?"

Logan just grunted at Creed as he sawed his claws on the collar. They were so damn close to getting through, just needed to keep the pressure up a little, tiny bit longer. Knowing they were so close, smelling the blood still flowing from her wounds and Creed and Marie's desperation just made him strain that much harder. Finally, with a growling roar he gave a last mighty heave and cut through the fucking collar.

For the long space of ten of the girl's heartbeats, nothing happened.

Jean, who'd re-entered the room at Logan's roar, spoke gravely. "I'm sorry, I think she's too far gone. Maybe she's just too young, or maybe she's only a Class One or Two and can't come back from this kind of damage."

No one spoke, barely even breathed as everyone who could jacked up their senses and tuned into the slowing heartbeats. When they began to skip and stutter, Marie took Logan's arm. He slid it free from her grip and used it to pull her in close as they all watched the injured girl's chest rise and fall faintly. And then fainter still. Then not at all. Marie gulped and tucked her face into Logan's chest. Jean sighed and began to clean up the instruments scattered around the room. Logan watched Creed's face, his own concerned, his brother's strangely blank.

"Creed, maybe we should –" He broke off as the older feral let out a eardrum-bursting roar and slammed his clenched fist down on the girl's chest. Swearing violently, Logan lunged forward with Marie, both of them grabbing one of Victor's arms and pulling his back from the table. He let them but shouted over their cries.

"I helped her, tell them, doc! Listen to her." He clearly didn't mean Jean, who was staring at him like he was insane. Maybe he was – actually there was no maybe about it – but he'd done what he meant to do. To Logan's disbelieving ears, a quiet, steady heartbeat echoed from the girl; for one second more, nothing happened, then the bloody, gory girl gasped and her eyes flew open.

Jean jumped forward and began to talk, asking who she was, where she was from, telling her not to move. "You're in Westchester, in our medical area. Please lay still. I'm a doctor, Dr. Gray, and we're going to take great care of you."

Though her eyes were still reeling madly around the room, she lay still and silent, not responding to any of Jean's questions. Logan could smell the acrid panic pouring off of her and he moved to the side of the table. As he entered her line of vision, the panic spiked even higher; swearing, he backed off. "Marie!"

Nudging him out of her way, she stepped up to the side of the table and reached for the girl's hand. "You're safe with us. The collar is gone." That is all she said and Logan could smell her hot fear cooling down. It was still there, hanging in the air like smoke, but a lot of it cleared at Marie's quiet words.

Jean began to pluck at the bloody clothes and the panic flared again. Marie, who'd clearly pulled on his borrowed mutation, smelled it and spoke gently. "Jean, why don't we clear the men out?"

The doctor began to agree but they both spoke up.

"Kid, I ain't goin' anywhere until we know where she came from."

Creed's response was more to the point: "Fuck that."

Marie looked to Logan for support, but the look in his eyes when he glanced from her to Victor and back halted any protest she was going to make. Jean was more focused on the patient and didn't catch the look. "Logan, Victor, please."

"No." This time, the brothers spoke the single in unison and Jean scowled.

"Really, it's not…" One fulminating look from the Rogue shut her up, though she scowled angrily.

Marie spoke lowly to the girl. "We just want to get you cleaned up, make sure your healing factor is going to take care of the damage. Ok? It's not going to hurt, we're just going to take off the bloody clothes." She glanced over her shoulder to where the male ferals stood, shoulder-to-shoulder, arms crossed over chests, and eyes locked on the injured girl. "You guys think maybe you could at least turn around?"

Logan nodded brusquely and turned his back to the scene; when Victor didn't turn, Logan grabbed his arm and forcibly turned him to face the wall of the exam room.

Deprived of sight, they both listened closely as Jean and Marie carefully snipped the side seams of the tattered and bloody clothes, Marie speaking quietly the whole time. Logan could feel the blanket of calm she was exuding and knew she was calling on their friend Pax's powers, letting the calm and cool wash over the girl. It didn't even smell like a lie, since his girl was meaning every soothing word she spoke. With every sentence, the girl's terror and pain faded; he could practically hear her healing factor scrambling to fix all that was broken in her. Thank God Jean had been wrong with the suggestion that she was a low-level feral. Judging by the speed that the smell of her pain was fading, she was Class Four, maybe even another Five like him and Creed.

"We're just going to take these away. Want to take a shower before you get some fresh clothes?" There was no response from the girl but Logan smelled a tiny flicker something like happiness, just less strong. He heard the sound of cloth being pulled off of bloody skin; there was a unique sound to it that any soldier would know instantly.

The rustling ended on a gasp from Jean that didn't quite muffle the sound of Marie's own indrawn breath.

"Oh my God," was Jean's weak oath.

Marie's oath was a hell of a lot stronger but it was the flare of disgust, touched with the most inappropriate spark of arousal, that made the men spin around.

For a long moment, no one spoke as they looked at the body now exposed on the table. The girl's eyes were wide and wild, but she made no move to cover her body. Training, probably years of it, made a dent, after all.

Victor finally broke the awful silence. "I guess they figured since tattoos don't work on a feral, so they had to mark her some other way."

* * *

 _Anyone wanna guess what they did? It's probably not difficult to guess where I'm going with this character and I hope you'll all stick around for the ride with me. Please, I'd love to hear from you, questions, complaints, whatever. Really, I LOVE it. :)_


	22. Chapter 22

_Hi, you lovely folks, how's life going for you? This is chapter 22 and it's a little odd. It's not the best one ever, but I like it. I do want to apologize for the odd voice/apparent narrator, I kind of jumped back and forth between characters, but I don't really enjoy doing the page breaks when it's all the same scene, so just roll with it. Also, it's a teensy bit (and truly, I do mean just a little, no worries) darker than any of the other chapters, be brave. Ok, enough with the chitchat, on with the story. :)_

 _p.s. Please, review at the end of this chapter, I really want to know what you think once you're done!_

* * *

Neither of the men, who'd spent plenty of time in labs, or Marie, who had Logan's memories, doubted that the techs had tattooed her. It was standard practice, after all, especially for healers who could be marked again and again without damage. At least, without physical damage. But the techs who'd had this girl had clearly moved on from the non-permanent ink markings to something that was going to last longer on a mutant who healed. All across her torso and down her body, anywhere commonly covered by clothing, there were dozens piercings.

Logan studied the poor girl as Marie leaned into him. Immediately drawing the eye were the two piercings that marked each nipple, one vertical and one horizontal. No one in the room needed to guess why the horizontal piercings were rings welded shut rather than barbells.

Other than those ones, there appeared to be no attempt at symmetry in the pattern. Across one collarbone was a set of eight small rings that he recognized as being "corset" piercings, sans the ribbon usually included; he had a feeling that the techs had used something much less pleasant than silk ribbon to thread the rings. Down one side of her chest, starting just under her shoulder was a stair stepping zig-zag of barbells. The other side boasted the words "MUTIE FREAK" spelled out in the posts. There was a large ring through one of her triceps and a large barbell under her arm. He and Creed had seen that kind of thing before, so Marie had as well, but Jean didn't know what it meant.

She looked to Logan, where he was gently stroking Marie's ponytail as she wept silently, and started to open her mouth to ask. Even horrified – perhaps especially when horrified – she always wanted to learn more. Logan shook his head once then tapped his temple meaningfully. Projected an image of a faceless woman, her arms locked by her sides by the barbell that was threaded through the ring; the only way to lift her arm would be to rip on of the pieces of metal from its mooring. There was no need to make it any more detailed than that; Jean clearly got it when she went pale and shaky.

Logan, distracted by Jean, looked back down at Marie, who had transferred her own gaze to Victor. Logan too looked at his brother and was struck by the total blankness of his face as Victor examined the girl. Followed his brother's stare to where one SOB had set a trail of posts down her belly and over one hip, ending in two posts set to form an arrow, pointing to the patch of hair between her legs. On the other thigh was the word "HEALER." In other words, they could do anything they wanted to her as long as they took the collar off long enough to let her heal from it afterwards. A fucking hall pass to whatever the hell they wanted to her. No need to worry about leaving marks.

"Kid." Logan's voice rumbled in Marie's ear and she started. It was the first word anyone had spoken since her and Jean's exclamations and it seemed almost offensive. She turned to shush him and he lowered his voice even more and continued, "Cover her up, Mate, this ain't right that we're seein' this." She nodded jerkily and tried to do as he asked, but she couldn't seem to make her feet move toward the exam table.

Pressing his mouth to her ear, he hissed, "Creed's going crazy, kid, you gotta cover her." Turning her head to look at Victor, she didn't see anything odd about him, just his normally impassive face. Logan took a deep breath and nudged her, clearly indicating that she should do the same. Doing so, she was floored by the fury coming off of Victor in waves; if his scent was anything to judge by, he had to be in a killing rage right now. With her borrowed senses wide open, she could smell the pain pouring off the girl, too. What was more disturbing than anything was the complete lack of humiliation. They'd broken her down that far. God… In a hurry now to spare both of them, she stumbled forward to grab a sheet.

At her sudden movement, the girl on the table flinched.

It was such a tiny movement, barely even visible, just a flicker of eyelids and a barely perceptible dipping of the chest in a quick breath that Logan doubted Jean saw it, and Marie was so focused on what he'd asked her to do that she didn't pause. Victor sure as hell saw it though, and let out a blood-curdling, hair-raising growl. Marie whipped around and stumbled backward as Victor took two fast steps forward and invaded her personal space. Logan let out a growl of his own and moved to block his mate from danger, but Marie, her eyes still on Victor, shot out a hand in a gesture that clearly said "Stop". Logan halted a foot away and waited for Marie to give him a sign.

Marie didn't know where the next move came from. She just knew she was using her borrowed feral mutation and the instincts that came along with it were telling her that her Alpha was pissed as hell and she needed to do something to appease him before he ripped her throat out. With that running though her mind, she stepped closer to Victor and, moving so very carefully, with her eyes down and her head tipped to the side, touched her forehead to Victor's chest. The muscle under her head vibrated with his growl.

For a long heartbeat, Marie thought it wasn't going to work, that her inner feral had told her wrong, and that Victor was going to just reach out and snap her neck. When his hands came out and gripped her arms, she had to bite her lip to hold back a hiss of pain at the bruising grip. For another long moment, he just held her hard, then his grip loosened and he gave her a shove back and towards the table.

"Go ahead."

She nodded once, face sober, and moved quickly to grab a sheet off the shelf and cover the naked body. The sheet was soft white cotton and settled gently over the girl; it lay so lightly that many of the bumps caused by the piercings were still visible.

Jean, who'd frozen like a statue at the first sound of Victor's growl, shook herself and began to chatter in a bright, false voice. "We'll get you cleaned up, a nice hot shower will feel so good won't it? Then we'll get you fresh clean clothes and get you some food and I know Scott will want to talk with you. As soon as the Professor gets back from Washington, he'll talk to you too, welcome you to the school properly, you know." As she babbled, little objects trembled and shivered in spots on shelves and countertops.

Logan, unsticking his own feet, reached out and gripped Jean's arm. "Why don't you go see about getting' some clothes for … her? Marie can handle gettin' her cleaned up."

"Really, I should stay, she still needs to be looked over…"

"Jeanie, she's got a factor that kicked in as soon as that collar broke. She's all fixed up now, right? Go on."

He marched her toward the door as he spoke and gently pushed her out. She turned and began to protest again, but Victor's wordless snarl made her blanch and hurry away. When he turned around, Victor was standing some feet back from the table, face stony and dark. Looking from him to Marie, who was standing by the bed looking back at him, he saw that the girl had turned her head, her first real movement, and was looking over at the three of them. No, not the three of them, he thought as her eyes moved over Marie then lingered on himself.

The almost imperceptible rumbling coming from Victor drew her eye and she watched him like the dangerous animal he was. This time when Marie reached out toward her, she didn't flinch but moved her shoulder to let Marie help her to a sitting position, still keeping her eyes on Victor. As she sat up, the sheet fell to her lap, leaving her exposed again but she made no attempt to recover it, just sat there quietly.

"Can you tell us your name?" Marie's quiet question drew the girl's eyes back to her. Logan and Victor both drew a couple steps closer to the table, responding to the fear in her scent. Marie rested her hands on her thighs, using her body language to show that she was no threat. Logan's hands came to rest on Marie's waist but Victor kept his crossed over his chest as he watched impassively. Marie's elbow came out and nudged him but he just huffed a breath out and ignored her.

For a long moment, Marie sure the girl wouldn't speak. Then, she drew in a quiet breath and turned her eyes, a cool gray-green, on Marie. She opened her mouth to speak but all that came out was a rough croak. Pulling away from Logan, Marie quickly got a paper cup and filled it from the sink in the attached bathroom. Returning to the girl, she handed it over and watched as the girl drank greedily; the first real sign of life they'd seen yet from her.

Finished with her water, she lowered the cup and looked down at it, gently plucking at the seams, and said nothing. Marie opened her mouth to repeat the question but got cut off by Victor saying, "Your name, frail."

Victor ignored the scowls he got from his brother and Marie, kept his eyes focused on the half-naked girl on the table who crushed the paper cup in her hand. Instantly she dropped it and a wave of fear washed over the three watching her. Victor's snarl was louder and he moved unexpectedly, grabbing the mangled cup from her lap and throwing it across the room.

"We're not those bastards, frail, we're not going to hurt you." Marie wanted to stare at him – what the hell was up with him? – but he was getting results so she didn't try to stop him when he reached out and gripped the bloody girl's chin, forcing her head up to face him. Still gripping her, he ground out, "What is your name?"

The girls jaw clenched and her lips parted. Logan had the distinct impression that she was trying to hold back from taking a bite out of Creed's hand and instantly liked her better for the show of temper. Creed must have thought the same because his grip tightened but a hint of amusement touched his scent. Using his grip on her chin, he nudged her head up a little higher, baring her throat. "Your name, kit."

Marie shot him a quick look at the sound of Wolverine's favorite pet name for her then looked to Logan who just arched his brows in a find of facial shrug. Then he gripped her wrist and tugged her half a step away, keeping her out of Victor's space.

"Beth." Her voice was quiet, still husky from the ordeal.

Victor's own eyebrows arched as he looked over what he could see of her, which was still quite a lot, since the sheet remained bunched in her lap. She was softer than ferals usually were; whoever'd had her locked up obviously hadn't starved her. Full breasts sat high over a gently rounded belly, leading down to full thighs outlined by the light sheet. Her hair, currently muddy, bloody, and tangled, was a dirty sort of mousy brown that hung over her shoulders and down her back.

"Beth what?" Marie's question was soft, her eyes gentle.

The girl, Beth, apparently, flicked her eyes to Marie's then away. "Just Beth." The words weren't curt, just matter of fact.

Marie nodded and looked to Victor. When he made no comment, or move to release Beth's chin, she cleared her throat and addressed Beth. "Would you like to get cleaned up?"

Hesitantly, she studied Marie's face again, longer this time. Marie watched her take a few deep breaths, clearly getting her scent so she waited patiently. After a long pause, Beth nodded. Or tried to. The movement was impaired by Victor's hand, still holding her chin. Gray-green eyes clashed with blue-and-gold. He curled his lip back to snarl at her, then released her and turned away. Marie glared at his back. When she turned to help Beth down off the table, she found the other girl glaring at him too. Marie beamed at her for it. Not many people met Victor and got pissed at him first thing. Usually terror came first, most often, at least used to be, followed by painful, screaming death; it was a good sign that Beth had moved on to annoyance already. And that she wasn't dead yet. Marie was ignoring the fact that Victor had run her over.

The table wasn't very high, but Beth was quite short, no more than an inch or two over five feet, and not all the non-life-threatening scrapes and bruises had healed up yet. When she, with Marie's help, made to slide off the table, she hit the ground and stumbled, hissing with pain at the sudden jarring. In a second Victor, suddenly paying attention again, gripped the arm closest to him and held her steady while she regained her balance. His claws dug into her arm but she didn't even flinch.

Logan averted his gaze so he wasn't staring at Beth's naked form as she swayed between his brother and his mate and grabbed the sheet from where it'd fallen to the floor. Holding it open, he held it up so it blocked his view and offered it to the little tableau. Marie took it from him with murmured thanks and draped it over Beth's shoulders.

As the sheet settled over his hand on her arm, Victor let her go. Made sure she was steady before turning away and ignoring the girls as they headed for the attached bathroom. Logan watched to make sure they were going to be able to stay upright before he turned to confront his insane brother. When he looked at him, though, Creed was watching them walk away. The sheet covered Beth completely from behind but it was still light enough that it outlined everything it covered. When he caught Logan staring, Victor just shrugged and looked unconcerned. They'd both seen the outlines of more piercings down her back and buttocks. And they both knew there would be more in places not so easily seen; no way could the sadist techs have resisted inflicting that kind of pain and humiliation.

"Wonder why she didn't try to remove them herself." Creed's voice was deceptively casual, as if he were wondering what the weather would be the next day. Logan didn't have an answer and just shrugged. The waves of fury still rolling off Creed were still swamping his senses and he didn't know how to handle it. His psycho brother was always the one _causing_ the pain, never the one _in_ pain and Logan had no fucking clue what he was supposed to be doing about it.

"Whatever the reason she didn't we'll get them off of her. Motherfucking techs used her like a pincushion. But we can fix it." Logan knew he was babbling a little, but since this was all new territory, trying to comfort Creed – what the hell? – and he had no frame of reference.

"You know what the ones on her tits mean, don't you?"

"Jesus, Creed." Logan scrubbed a hand over his bristly face at the crass question.

"Remember that girl in that one Cairo club?" Creed's voice was still calm, terrifyingly so.

Logan didn't have all his memories, not of everything, but many things had come back over the several years since he'd learned his story, a good chunk of it from Creed. The memory Creed was referring to now was one of the ones he did remember. They'd been stationed in Egypt in 1914, borrowed from their normal assignments by the English government. Like many of the other soldiers in the city, they'd spent many nights indulging in the local attractions. Especially those found in the Wozzer – the Red Light Quarter.

There had been one particular club that they'd gone back to several times before they were deployed. It had been opulent, dark, lots of hazy smoke touched with opium. It hadn't worked on them, of course, but it had made the other patrons and the…entertainment very uninhibited. There had been this one particular act, two nubile young women, one dressed in soft white linen robes. The other had nothing but a half veil over her face and a collection of golden chains that had glowed against her dusky skin. One of the chains had been threaded through hoops on her nipples as a leash that the girl in white used to lead her around the room.

Before today it was one of his hotter memories, laying on soft pillows, drinking, smoking, having a chained, naked girl crawling to him to service him. It deeply appealed to a man with a rough, dominant, feral side; plus, it'd been fucking fun. Creed'd certainly had a lot of fun with it, holding her over to one side while pulling on the chain with his opposite hand, forcing her to lean over his body. Of course, he'd also made the girl _holding_ the leash to service him, too. He'd always wanted multiple girls if he wasn't allowed to be forcing one.

The memory was so viscerally attractive that even now, compared to the poor girl they'd just seen naked and tortured, it still had the power to stir his juices. Logan wiped a sweaty hand over his face and wished desperately for Marie. She knew what to do with tense, horny ferals.

 **She'll be back soon, just hold it together. Think about something else.**

The Wolverine was prowling in his head, just as sickened by the brutality of what had been done to Beth, but just as aroused by the memory of the girl in Cairo. During the uncomfortable pause after Creed's question, Logan's feral tried to ease the awkward sexual heat from the memory by providing full-color fantasies of Marie letting him tie her up, chain her down, and generally torment her into a frenzy. Sure, it wasn't helping with the hard-on he was sporting, but at least it had more to do with Marie than some girl in an S and M club ninety years ago.

Now it was picturing Marie in an S and M club. Christ on a crutch, he was going to explode.

* * *

 _Hope you enjoyed the chapter. As I promised previously, I'm not going to go deep into Victor and Beth's developing relationship. I think it'll be a nice way to keep the brothers involved in each other's lives. Plus, I'm sure Victor is going to be an ass fairly often and Beth will have to to complain to Marie about it. Also, Victor is sure to be one kinky bastard, so I'm liking the idea of giving him his own story depicting his sex-life._

 _I also wanted Logan to have a sister, well, another sister. He and Victor have Jubilee already, and she's Pack whether or not the boys like it, but it's not the same, since she's not feral. Marie will enjoy having her around, being able to share the perky and problems of having a feral Mate with someone who'll fully appreciate and understand the trials and tribulations of it. And will understand the needs of a growly, dominant feral male. Mmmmmmm_

 _Please, I'd really, reallllly love to hear your thoughts on this chapter: tell me what you think of the piercings, of her description, etc._


	23. Chapter 23

_Hi everyone, sorry I took forever. This is kind of an odd chapter, not very exciting. I had such great plans and everything kinda fizzled, so all I can say is I'm sorry, hopefully the next one will be better. Thanks for reading, hope you keep enjoying it :)_

* * *

Marie stood fully clothed in the shower with Beth, supporting her and just letting the lukewarm water rain down and remove blood and mud and dust. The other woman stood quietly, calmly examining her. Not a chatterer by nature, Marie did her best to keep up a soft one-sided conversation, talking about the school and the Professor and the X-Men and all they tried to do. Running out of that information, since she couldn't tell all the details of the missions, Marie moved onto describing her friends and Logan in detail, talking about their mutations and their personalities.

If she wasn't mistaken, the quiet girl cracked a small smile when Marie described Jubilee's unruly antics.

"How many are there here?"

Marie broke off her story about Logan's latest endeavor to piss Scott off by having one of the shop classes disassemble Scott's new car then reassemble it in the dining room to look at Beth.

"How many what? Students? Oh, I think we have almost two hundred now, finally got the room to house them after building the new –" She broke off again when Beth shook her head, flinging water around the cubicle.

"No, how many of us are there here?" Her face was scrunched in annoyance at Marie's misunderstanding. "Ferals," she huffed with a wave of her hand between their bodies to indicate them both. "How many ferals are here?"

"Oh, um, hang on…" Ticking off on her fingers, Marie quickly counted. "Unless I'm missing someone, which I might be, I haven't had a chance to spend a lot of time with the really young ones, I'm thinking there's 8. Quite a lot, really, considering how rare they've always been. Of course, Victor and Logan are the oldest by far."

Beth's head tipped to the side as she studied Marie. "How old are you?"

Marie couldn't stop her lips from quirking. "I'm twenty-three, how old are you?"

The only sign of surprise was a quick blink from Beth. "You still look your age then. I haven't met many of us who do."

Now it was Marie's turn to be surprised. "What? No, no, I'm not a feral."

Beth's eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. Marie jacked up her borrowed senses and got a wave a confusion and distrust from Beth. Suddenly understanding the miscommunication, look what mutation she was using right now, Marie added quickly, "I'm not feral but I have, ah, acces to feral abilities, so I guess I might smell like one sometimes. It's part of my mutation, see?" When Beth's eyes stayed narrowed, Marie continued, "I can take power from others, life-force on humans and mutations and life-forces on mutants." Face stony, eyes wide, Beth took a single step back and Marie lifted her hands in the universal no-threat gesture.

"I can control it now, I don't pull anything unless I mean to. And I can pull only as much as I need or want to, I don't have to kill or debilitate with it." She pulled on Jubilee's power and sent a few small sparklers dancing in and out of the shower streams.

"I can keep them, too, and use them whenever. Through, um, "borrowing" a mutation, I've got feral senses and a healing factor if I need them."

Beth nodded slowly. "So you heal. Show me?"

Marie slowly slid out a set of delicate bone claws then retracted them, watching with Beth as the small cuts healed in moments.

Beth gave her another small smile but it faded quickly and her face became shuttered. Gray-green eyes cool, she asked, "Who did you touch to get those, the healing factor and the senses?"

"And the claws," Marie added. "I got them from Logan, he was the first person to offer to touch me after I found out I could control it. Wanted me to have a healing factor in case I got hurt on a mission. He's been looking after me for years." She knew she had a silly smile on her face.

"Does it hurt?"

Marie looked up to find Beth examining the naked skin of her hands.

"Does it hurt when you touch someone with your power turned on?"

"If I'm fighting and I use it to pull hard, I think so. People scream and sort of seize up. But if I do it very low, Logan says it doesn't hurt at all, almost tickles."

Beth nodded again and seemed to consider her next question. After a few moments, she asked, "Do you want to touch me?" holding out a hand to Marie. It was rock steady and Marie knew that she was not nearly the scariest thing Beth had ever confronted – just one more reason for Marie to _not_ touch her… Selfish as it might be, she really didn't want those memories in her head.

Marie clasped her hand warmly but didn't turn on her mutation. "Thank you, but I'm good and you need all your strength right now. You've still got some healing to do." There were still-healing bruises and a few scratches oozing blood scattered across heat-flushed skin.

Beth only nodded and gently tugged her hand free, accepting the shampoo bottle Marie then pressed into it. Unselfconsciously, she lathered her hair and rinsed, moving more fluidly now as her less-severe injuries healed. Before Marie's eyes, dark, blotchy bruises faded to green then faded to rosy skin. The blood washed away by soap and water turned the white tiles pink on the floor but left behind clear, unmarked skin. Unmarked except for the metal adornments, of course.

After another lather and rinse, the muddy ratty mess of hair was clean and sleek on her head and down her shoulders. She accepted the conditioner Marie handed her but just stared at it like she'd never seen it before for a few moments before she slowly popped the top and poured some into her hands.

Marie, seeing that she was capable of handling the showering process on her own now, stepped back and slipped out of the bathroom, saying, "I'm going to see if Jean's found any clothes for you yet. I'll be just outside."

An arm reached out of the curtain and waved.

Marie was smiling when she stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door and Logan breathed a sigh of relief. She let him tug her to him and he wrapped one fist in her hair to hold her still for a long, deep kiss. When he let her up for air, she gave him a slightly stupid smile and patted his naked chest.

"Well hey, sugar, long time no see." When she remembered Victor was in the room as well, she tried to back up and put a little space between Logan's body and hers but he just banded his arm about her waist and kept her flush against him. She smirked up at him at the feeling of his heavy erection pressing against her stomach. Logan smacked a hand to her ass and squeezed, making her gasp and giggle uncharacteristically.

The odd sound was drowned out by Victor's low, rumbling growl. "The frail?"

Marie tugged away from Logan and his wandering hands long enough to turn around and glare at Victor. "Her name is Beth, you will not go around dehumanizing her by calling her 'frail', V – ack!" She was cut off by Logan's hand on her neck, pulling her back flat against his chest.

His lips pressed lightly to her ear and he muttered, "Darlin', I know you don't go pryin' through my memoires and I really appreciate that, but later we're gonna have a little show-and-tell kinda thing, ok? Right now, just…just don't piss him off?"

Huffing out a breath, she nodded her agreement and he let go. She grumbled under her breath until Victor snarled, "The frail?" again.

Glaring at him, she ground out shortly, "She's fine, just finishing up her shower."

Before Victor could snap back, Jean came hurrying back into the room, Scott hot on her heels, both of them looking serious and official.

"Where is the girl?" Scott wasn't overly loud but Marie prickled in defense. She'd decided she liked the feral woman, if for no reason other than she'd offered to let Marie touch her, and she, Marie that is, wasn't going to just stand around and let people bully her or run roughshod over her.

"Her _name_ is Beth!" Jean and Scott started and stared at Marie, clearly baffled by the sudden and vehement declaration. With Logan's hand on the back of her neck, she took a long, deep breath before she continued in a more sedate tone: "Her name is Beth and she's a feral. Her healing factor is running now and fully compensating for her injuries and there's really no reason for Jean to be here now, her services are no longer needed."

Logan's hand on her shoulder squeezed in appreciation even as Jean gasped – rather dramatically – and Scott just asked blankly, "Rogue?"

"I just mean that Beth doesn't need a doctor now, Scott, so maybe you could let us," here she gestured to the two men and Jubilee, who'd come pelting into the room at that moment – her arms full of what looked like the contents of half the closets in the mansion –, "get her settled in before you question her? Maybe you could even wait for the Professor to come back?" The sentence was clearly not actually a question and Scott didn't mistake it for one.

Though he glared at her and tried to stare her down, Marie glared right back. Finally, Scott tossed up his hands in defeat. "Fine, we'll talk to her once the Professor comes home tomorrow, but I want one of you to stay with her at all times, alright?"

"Alright." The word came from several throats and everyone looked at the now-open bathroom door. Beth stood there, the sheet Logan had draped around her wrapped toga-like. She was so short that she had to step carefully to avoid tripping over the trailing ends of it as she moved out into the exam room to stand an arm's length away from Marie. The slow and deliberate progress lent her a dignity that the bedsheet was trying to steal.

"I don't mean any harm to you or your students but I'm sure you can't just take my word for it." Her voice was polite and cool but Marie could see the sheet shaking around her frame. "So of course I understand that I need to be watched. I'm sure one of these three," here she gestured to the two male ferals and Marie, "will be able to keep an eye on me."

"Me, too." Jubilee unexpectedly added her voice, and apparently time, to the mix. She moved over to stand yellow-shoulder-to-shoulder with Marie. Everyone looked at her in some surprise, especially Beth, and Jubilee shot her a cheerful grin. "I love a chance to build a wardrobe from the ground on up." Pausing, she looked critically at the sheet. "Not that you don't look good in the toga-sheet look, all Rubenesque-Roman-goddess-y, but your wet hair is soaking it and I'm pretty sure 'Tooth over there is about to blow a gasket, so let's see what we can find, huh?"

In typical Jubilee style, she'd managed to break the tension in the room, except for perhaps with Victor, judging by his growl at her, but everyone ignored him. Still looking annoyed and self-righteous, Jean dragged Scott from the exam room while Jubilee began pawing through the enormous pile of clothing she'd brought with her. Marie smile fondly at her friend then looked to Beth, surprised and pleased to find a smile on her face as well as she watched Jubilee lift, examine, and summarily discard various articles of clothing.

Logan too was grinning, up until he saw the dingy undershirt Jubilee was pulling out of the pile. Reaching out a hand, he grabbed it from her. "Hey, sparkplug, that's mine. What did you do, raid all the men's closets?"

Jubilee looked at him like he was crazy. "Well, just about _everyone's_! How was I supposed to know what size she wore or what she'd look best in if I didn't get a large selection?" His glower didn't abate. "Well, fine! It's an ugly shirt anyway and she would never wear such a thing."

Marie leaned into Beth and murmured, "Clothing always makes her dramatic, don't take it too seriously."

Beth's smile didn't falter. "Don't worry, I never take things too seriously," she said quietly to Marie. Then, "Jubilee, what about that one there, the gray button-down there?"

Startled at the new voice, Jubes looked up from where she was happily rummaging to look at Beth, then to look where she pointed. "Ah-ha! Good choice, it's Piotr's so I'm sure it'll fit you, that man is _huge_!" When Victor growled again, she sent him her brightest smile while she pulled the shirt free. "Oh, don't worry, 'Toothie, I'm sure you're just as big as _Colossus_."

The stress on Piotr's X-Men name and a mischievous wink nearly pushed Victor over the edge, but he managed to reign himself in before he reached for her with claws out. The sound of Marie's choked laughter and Beth's expelled breath brought his attention to them and he seared them both with a vicious glower before yanking a shirt out of the pile and shoving it at Jubilee, then stomping out. Logan stared after him, in that moment feeling a deep kinship with his brother; he knew full well how it was to be tormented by these two –well, three now – girls and he pitied Creed for all the trouble he was going to have in the months to come.

* * *

 _I love Jubilee, she's one of my very favorite characters. I can just see her befriending someone just so she can pick all their clothes for them!_


	24. Chapter 24

_Hi! I'm happy I was able to get this chapter out much faster than previously, you people are so great I feel guilty if I make you wait. So, ok, I wanna apologize, I didn't mean to make the whole last chapter or two be kinda weird and somberish. That was not my intent, I don't know what I was thinking. Whoops. Perhaps I stroked out for a bit, not really sure. Anyway, I tired to make this one a little less "whoa, what's DotBC trying to do?" and more like "ha, oh that silly DotBC". So, yeah, keep that in mind. Remember, this story is supposed to be fun and funny. Unfortunately for all of us, I was completely unaware that I'm totally incapable of writing humorous things and instead they come out dark and melodramatic until I tried to write this. Oy. Oh well. Enjoy :)_

* * *

Marie didn't look at Jubilee, didn't dare for fear she'd burst out into laughter, and Victor was still within earshot. So since laughing was a little too dangerous at the moment, she looked to where Logan was standing with a thoughtful look on his scruffy face.

"What is it, sugar?"

Turning to look at her, he gave her his squinty-eyed look that was his smile for her. "Just thinking, darlin'. Why don't you and the firecracker show the newbie around, explain what happens here?" His eyes flicked over her shoulder then back to her face. With a quick nod, he followed his brother out and down the hall.

Marie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Logan wasn't usually the one to roll out the welcome wagon when new people showed up at the school, but maybe he felt a little more welcoming of this stranger due to her feral mutation. After watching Logan and Victor and the other ferals in the mansion, Marie had noticed that most were fine with interactions in the more neutral areas of the school, such as the dining room and the classrooms, but that they became dangerously territorial in their private places. Well, she'd just make sure to avoid the ferals' bedrooms, they shouldn't have a problem.

When she turned her attention to the newest resident of the mansion, Marie was amused to find Beth pulling on the shirt Victor had shoved at Jubilee. It was one that Marie recognized as belonging to that feral, a black button-up with steel gray stripes and it draped Beth's small but voluptuous frame easily, reaching to her knees. She was busily rolling up the cuffs so that they rested at her finger tips instead of dangling half a foot from them while she accepted or rejected the various pieces of clothing Jubilee was holding up for inspection. The few clothes that were going into the acceptable pile were all loose, soft shirts and a couple pairs of Piotr's pajama pants. Clothes that would not cling to her body and reveal the number of metal bits studding her skin.

That just brought back the image of how Beth had looked, bloody and covered in the cruel reminders of whatever piece of shit lab she'd been in. Marie wondered if Jubilee had seen the piercings. It didn't seem likely, since she was facing the ever-dwindling pile of clothes and there was no way even Jubilee could have seen something so unbelievable without voicing some sort of comment or showing any reaction.

Meaning to address those piercings, Marie put her hand on Beth's shoulder and was surprised by the quick grin the other girl shot her as she hitched on a pair of flannel pants.

"I don't know who's pants these are, but I'm keeping them." It was said with a wicked wink and Marie had to chuckle.

"They're Pete's, you'll meet him at dinner, if you're feeling up to it, if not before."

"He's a _huge_ sweetie," Jubilee chimed in, "and he won't mind you in his pants at all." She snickered at the poor double entendre and continued to dig through the remaining clothes. With a huff of disgust, she shoved everything left into the reject pile. "No one here has any taste. There's no hope for it, we're just going to have to go shopping, build your wardrobe from the bottom on up." The light in her dark eyes was that of a zealot speaking of her cause.

Beth shot her a weary look before raising her eyebrows at Marie as if to ask, "Is that safe?"

Smothering a laugh, Marie nodded solemnly. "It does seem like the only logical approach. I think she'll look especially good in yellow, Jubes."

Jubilee burst out into her signature laugh while Beth blanched and scowled at them both.

Giving up the joke, Marie caught one of Beth's arms and Jubilee took hold of the other and they steered her out the door, down the hall to the elevator and inside.

"Come one, Roguey, let's show our new friend around! So," she said ingeniously to Beth as she stabbed the button for the main floor of the mansion, "what are you, huh?" Marie sighed at her friend's bluntness.

"Ah, I'm a feral."

"Another one! Dang, that makes like….seven?"

"Nine," Marie corrected.

"Wow! So many! I thought the professor said that ferals were really rare, I wonder how so many made it here. Well, a couple of them are really young, still babies really, so they didn't exactly make their way here on their own. But other than 'Tooth and Wolvie, none of the others are more than teenagers. How old are you?"

Marie had to roll her eyes at Jubilee's total disregard for normal social conventions. Not that she cared that much for them either but Jubilee just blurted out whatever she was thinking at all times. Still, she didn't say anything to reprimand Jubes because she was curious too. She hadn't gotten a chance to ask in the shower.

The doors of the elevator slid open and the three women stepped out into the hustle and bustle of a boarding school packed with people. Clearly distracted by her first look at the mansion, Beth replied absently, "What year is it?"

Marie and Jubilee shared a puzzled look and Marie replied, "It's 2015, why?"

Beth's head tipped to the side and she seemed to be doing some mental calculations, then she said, "I think that makes me ninety-seven, then."

" _Damn,_ chica, you're looking good for almost a hundred!" Typical Jubilee, she jumped right back into the conversation after a bare second of stunned silence. "But you must be losing it a little if you can't even remember what year it is." This was said with a friendly little elbow jab and a grin.

Beth gave a rueful smile. "Probably very true, but mostly I just didn't know how long I was in the lab."

Her casual words had fallen into a hushing of voices created by the assorted people noticing "the new girl" and the utter silence that followed was so profound that Marie's ears rang with it. Jubilee – the girl was as softhearted as she was cheerful – let out a tiny gasp at the implication of Beth's offhand comment and reached out for her, but Beth apparently didn't notice the pity and horror her words had generates since she just turned and gave everyone watching a curious, friendly glance.

Marie noticed that her gaze lingered on Victor where he stood with – well, not _with_ but _next to_ – Logan at the base of the staircase and she gave him a nearly-imperceptible nod. Marie didn't see him nod back but Beth murmured to her from the corner of her mouth, "Is everyone always so interested in new people?" It was said with a wary kind of smile for the audience of staring children and the adults who had unfrozen and were trying to shoo the kids this way or that way to clear the area.

With a start, Marie realized she was staring too and jerked herself back to the moment and glared at a group of teenage girls who were sidling closer, nasty looks on their faces, presumably at the sight of Beth dressed in what were clearly men's clothes with her hair wet and trailing down her back.

"Yes, they are, they're just nosy and have nothing better to do with their time. Don't worry," she added as the girls stopped moving closer and bunched up to talk to each other in quick whispers. "I'm sure you'll get to know everyone pretty quick."

The newest feral just smirked and allowed herself to be propelled toward a long hall that Marie explained led down to the dining hall and kitchen.

Standing in the front hall still, Logan felt Creed tense beside him as the three women moved out of sight toward the smell of food wafting from the kitchen. He'd got stiff as a statue when those careless, heartbreaking words had rung through the room and had relaxed only when Beth had tipped her head to acknowledge their presence. When the bratty group of girls had started talking about why she was wearing men's clothes and had shown up unannounced –where had she come from, who was she? – Logan had been sure there was about to be bloodshed and had considered tackling Creed before he had a chance to gut one of the kids. The tackle hadn't been necessary after all – yet.

For long moments, they stood there in silence, watching as the little groups of gossiping mutant children scattered to their classes and rooms, making sure no one followed the women toward the kitchen.

Once the hall was empty, Logan cracked his neck. "Want a beer?" It was a rhetorical question that he didn't expect an answer to, so he just headed to the kitchen. As they approached, he could actually feel Creed loosening up with each step. The entered the kitchen just in time to see the back of Beth as Marie and Jubilee led the way up the back stairs to the adults' floor.

Very casually, Logan grabbed a beer from his fridge and said, "You see that ass on her?"

Creed, just as casually, reached out and shoved him so that Logan smacked back into the kitchen countertop. Creed then stole his beer and grunted. "Fuck yeah I did. Frail's a nice piece of tail." He took a swig, gulped. "Can't wait to get my claws on her, see how she rides. Never fucked a feral," he added at Logan's raised eyebrow. "Going to be good to not have to be nice to her or take her easy, with all that soft flesh and the healing. She's going to be real grateful she heals."

Logan, who could hear the girls returning, decided that he should not respond to that forbidding statement if he wanted to keep all his body parts in working order and get to use them on his own girl again.

Creed had clearly heard the girls coming back down the stairs, too, since he turned to watch them descend. It seemed that Beth might have heard his little remark about her, because she had a sharp little smile on her lips, thought her cheeks were brightly flushed. When Jubilee bid farewell, saying she'd meet them for dinner in half an hour or so, Marie leaned up against the counter where Logan was lounging after handing Beth a beer and getting one for herself. In her habitual gesture, she passed it to Logan to pop with a claw. Logan reached forward to offer to open Beth's too, but she ripped hers off with a set of small claw-like nails he hadn't noticed before and smiled at him.

"One of the few physical aspects of my mutation." With a little flutter of her eyes as if it hurt to do, she forced the nails partially back into her fingers, though they didn't retract all the way.

"She's a fox," Marie explained for her new friend.

"A dog." Creed's voice was deliberately insulting.

"It's better than being a big house cat." Beth's voice was so sweet that you could almost miss the razor sharp steel underneath. Almost. "Tell me, kitten, do you spray piss around to mark your territory?"

Logan hauled Marie to him and hid his grin in her hair, all while covering her mouth with his palm. She was shaking with laughter and he really didn't want to have to castrate his brother for trying to gut his Mate. In his head, the Wolverine rumbled in amusement at the new feral's audacity in challenging the Alpha.

Creed's smile was dangerous, promising much pain to the unwary observer. "Do you go around humping everyone and everything?" It was said with a crude inflection and lascivious leer.

Her smile was sweet as honey. "Not everyone, pussycat, just the ones I really like."

The grinding of Creed's teeth and his low growl were the only sounds in the kitchen for three long heartbeats and this time Logan was sure there was going to be bloodshed. As he was moving to put his girl aside and step between the other two, Beth beat him to it. Pacing closer, she raised her hand with the short, sharp nails and raked it over Creed's rough sideburn'd jaw, having to stretch some to do it. For half a second, Logan thought she'd clawed him but instead of pain and blood, he watched in shock as Creed's eyes slit in what was unmistakably pleasure.

Logan stared in mildly horrified amusement as this short, round woman petted his massive, psychotic, hopefully-formerly serial killer brother like he was the house cat she'd called him. It was only Marie's choked "Oh my God" that had him shaking his head. Suddenly unable to watch the bizarre happenings in front of him, he whipped around and yanked the fridge open for another bottle of beer.

When Logan turned back to face the kitchen, the door to the grounds was slamming closed behind Creed's back and Beth was seating herself at the kitchen table with her beer, a smug smile curving her lips. With a little hip bump for him, Marie strolled across and lounged in the chair next to Beth.

"Intentionally antagonizing Sabretooth. Alright, well, there are less fun ways to die I guess."

"God I hope so!" The wicked little smile was not at all reassuring for Logan's piece of mind and he wanted nothing more than to drink his beer in peace.

Collapsing into the chair beside his girl's, Logan refused to acknowledge the chills of apprehension running up his adamantium-coated spine. Just when he thought life in a school of couldn't get any more exciting…

* * *

 _Life in a school for young mutants just learning their powers needs some crazy hormones, right? And who better to supply the hormones than a couple of overbearing male ferals and their Mates?_

 _Also, the thought of the way I'm picturing Beth (she's based on a friend of mine) calling Liev Schreiber's Sabretooth "kitten" had me in stiches, I hope you all enjoyed it too. Please, let me know what you like, hate, have questions about, feel about the Cubs beating the Cardinals, whatever, I live to hear from you guys! Love, DotBC_


	25. Chapter 25

_Hi, all, I'm glad that I was able to get this chapter up pretty quickly, at least it didn't take 3 weeks like last time. I think you all responded really well the the previous chapter, way better than I thought (I hated it, so thanks!). Anyway, here's the next installment. For those of you who were wanting more Marie and Logan interaction, enjoy the last part of the chapter. :)_

* * *

Dinner was interminable. For once, Marie found herself even more anxious than Logan to leave the table; he seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure in watching Victor alternately snarl at people who paid too much attention to Beth, and squirm when those same people paid too much attention to him. Sure, it'd been funny for the first couple minutes but it got old quick, especially when it was painfully clear that Beth's calm, cool attitude was fraying quickly. Really, they did _not_ need more than one feral on edge tonight.

As soon as she was able, Marie rose from her place across from Logan, and tugged Beth up with her. The new feral did not resist; Marie got the distinct impression that she was fighting the urge to press her back to the wall and slide out of the room. Gesturing for Victor and Logan to join her, Marie stood in front of Beth. When the men, and Jubilee – who apparently wanted to help – joined her, the Asian spitfire joined Marie and the male ferals formed a solid wall of muscle behind Beth. Without a word or being too obvious, they'd managed to circle up around the newest resident of the school, forming a protective bubble. Victor, in particular, appeared to be completely oblivious to the fact that they'd circled the wagons around Beth.

When Beth made quietly protesting noises, Marie turned to explain what they'd done – being in the business of saving people, as it were – but she saw Victor place a heavy hand on the back of Beth's neck, claws out just a little. The female feral tensed for a second then deliberately relaxed her shoulders and gave a "go ahead" gesture to Marie without acknowledging Victor.

Marie about-faced and casually led the way out of the dining hall and into the kitchen. Once the group was up the stairs in the adults' hall, Jubilee bid them farewell and bounced off back down the steps. Apparently she and Remy had reached some sort of agreement after that unpleasantness this morning, judging by the anticipatory sparkle in her dark eyes. Marie watched her go with a fond smile, hoping Remy, who had not been at dinner tonight, didn't continue being an ass; Jubes really deserved someone nice… Well not nice, maybe, but not jackassy, at least.

Thinking about Jubilee always cheered her up, so Marie was smiling a little when she looked back at Beth. Away from the other students and adults, away from anyone with whom she could reasonably keep up false pretenses, the girl had relaxed and her face was lined with exhaustion and grayer than someone with a healing factor should be.

"Why don't we get you to bed?"

"God, bed sounds just… Well, I'm too tired to think of words just now but it sounds something. Where is my bed?" She'd used up all her strength and just sagged against the wall, eyes closed while she waited for someone to point her to the nearest horizontal surface.

"She outta be down at the end with us, kid." Logan's voice was a soft murmur. "Better insulated and all." It was no doubt the best plan. Reaching for Pete's strength, Marie gently pulled Beth away from the wall and slid an arm around her waist, supporting her weight as they walked, somewhat drunkenly, down the hall to the far end where the brothers' rooms were. There were a few empty rooms separating each of their spaces from the other teachers and Mare debated which side of the hall Beth should go on. Victor, who'd gone ahead of them simply opened the door to the room next to his on the way into his own bedroom. Marie shot Logan a raised-eyebrow look over Beth's drooping head.

Golden-green eyes glimmered back at her. She stumbled at the sudden heat in his gaze and in her body, losing her balance and nearly toppling to the floor. Only Logan's hand on her upper arm kept her upright. Unfortunately, she did lose her grip on Beth and the other girl clunked painfully into the door frame before clinging to it and shooting a pathetic look at the couple.

Blushing hotly and murmuring an apology to a muttering Beth, Marie shooed Logan back and herded her into the bedroom.

It was clean, of course. Storm ran the household with an iron fist, albeit one clad in the softest velvet, so even the unused bedrooms, like this one, were kept neat and at the ready. It was something the Professor insisted on for just such occasions; the mansion was a refuge for all those seeking asylum or to help their cause. All were to be welcomed, which meant food and beds for anyone in need.

Moving quickly despite the sudden weakness of her limbs, Marie stripped Beth and bundled her into a large t-shirt that Victor tossed into the room without a word. The sight of those metal rings gleaming malevolently against rosy skin momentarily distracted Marie from the unexpected heat in her belly that Logan had churned up.

Tracing one gloved finger gently over the word FREAK, Marie felt her eyes prick with tears. "Do you want Logan to cut them out? Or I could have him go get wire cutters and we could do it ourselves?"

Beth smiled softly at her, clearly on the edge of exhaustion. "Not tonight, sweets, I can't see them in my sleep, after all. Don't worry, we'll talk about it tomorrow, 'k?" She slid into the turned-down bed and yanked at the bed clothes until they were free from their neat tucks. Sleepily, she curled into a ball in the nest she'd made and smiled at Marie. "I'm good, I promise, Marie, don't worry."

Nodding, still unsure but unwilling to push when her friend was so clearly at the end of her strength, Marie backed out of the room and flipped the light off. Just as the door was closing, she heard Beth say, "By the way, it was really nice to meet you." Smiling again, if ruefully, Marie closed the door and turned to the hall. And ran smack into Logan.

Heavy arms banded around her, trapping her arms by her side and he pressed her back into the door behind her. From the strength of his arms, she expected the kiss to be bruising, hard and rough, but his lips cruised gently, teasingly over hers, nibbling and licking softly.

Her arms were still stuck at her side so she waited for him to press his lips to hers again, then gave his lip a sharp little nip on the tiny scar she'd left there. He lifted his head to glare at her and the gold in his hazel eyes glowed brightly. "Mate…"

She snickered at his tone, all growly and mean. "Sugar, I'm all for what you're doing, but we can't, _cannot_ do it right here against the door. We've got to at least – oomph!" All her breath whooshed out when her annoyed feral tossed her over his shoulder and carted her into his bedroom. Even hours after they'd last had each other in this room, the air was still soft with the smell of them, together, and Marie jacked up her borrowed feral senses to get more of that scent that gripped her in the gut and squeezed. Suddenly frantic for the taste of him, she clawed at his back through his shirt until he dropped her to her feet on the floorboards. Her boots made a hollow thunk before he yanked the door closed and she dove for him.

For a long, breathless moment, he let her kiss him, hold him to her while his fingers worked with the snap of her jeans and shoved them down her hips. Then he broke the kiss and shoved her roughly so that she tripped over the pants gathered at her knees and smacked back into the door. While she struggled to get her breath back, her Mate grabbed her arms and hauled her up, crushing her between his heavy body and the solid door. Caught up in a hard, hot kiss, she barely felt him fumbling at his belt and jeans. But she sure as hell felt it when he reached between her legs, inadequately screened by thin cotton underpants and cupped her, feeling her heat though the soft fabric. He used two fingers to force his way into her body, digging his teeth into the side of her throat when she whimpered at the feeling.

Panting, Marie struggled to lift away from him, desperate for a breath of fresh air to clear her mind. Logan only held her tighter, gripping her hips with both hands now, letting his fingers dig into the soft flesh, forcing her legs wide so all her weight rested on his thigh where he had it pressed to her wet heat. Using his grip on her hips, he grabbed both sides of her underpants and hauled on them, making the now-soaking material to press tight to her tender flesh.

The sudden increase of pressure was almost, _almost_ enough for her to go over the edge in a sharp, fast peak but he released her just before she tipped over and fell, laughing as she swore at him with what little breath she managed to keep. Changing his grip so he had one hand cupping her nearly-naked ass and one hand in her hair, he grabbed tight, pulling her head back and baring her throat. Hungrily he attacked the scar he'd left on his Mate in the woods while he searched for and found the secret, hidden places between the globes of flesh he held.

The unexpected, wholly unstoppable assault forced her to a climax that was equal parts pain and pleasure, so intense was the flood of release. She had no breath left to scream, no leverage to push him away from her, no real desire to do so anyway. The orgasm was hard and sharp and only pierced more deeply when he slammed his cock deep into her pulsing heat. His growl rumbled against the mating mark and Marie rolled right into a second orgasm.

This one had red-hot claws that scraped against her already frayed nerves.

Dimly she felt his hips battering at hers, ramming her ass into the door with each thrust; she had no strength left to hold herself upright but that was just fine, because the speed and intensity of each heavy thrust kept her smashed to the door. It wasn't long before she came again, a hot tumble a pleasure over sharp sensations. This time, she felt him haul her tighter to his body, felt the pressure of his strong fingers on her softer flesh. Felt the hot, hot pulse of him deep in her body, a warm flood that poured from him to her.

Minutes, possibly hours later, he eased away from her and she slipped back to the floor – she hadn't even realized she'd been dangling several inches off the floor, pinned to the door like a butterfly by his heavy body both inside and out. Her legs buckled and he tugged her back up with a completely masculine chuckle.

"We're gonna have to work on your stamina, kid. I can't go with only one fuck a night, so you're gonna have to get better at catching your breath."

She punched at his shoulder but her muscles were limp as overcooked noodles. The glancing blow just made him laugh harder as he propelled her to the bed. With a little push, he sent her sprawling face down on the bed. She didn't move, just let out a little rumbling groan when he stripped her down, pausing to nibble at her skin as he exposed it. Between her wantonly spread thighs, the glint of pearly fluid covering creamy flesh teased. Logan could feel his cock beginning to throb again at the sight, the proof that she was his for the taking, but he forced it down. She needed sleep and he could use some himself.

When she was at last naked, he quickly stripped off his own dishevelled clothes and crawled in beside her, pulling her body back to his and curling his big arm around her. When she muttered sleepily and tried to put a little space between then – he knew she still had nightmares about her skin switching on – he just pulled her back and slip one thigh between hers, anchoring her to the bed. Feisty even half asleep, she grumbled and dug the nails of one hand into the arm he rested under her breasts.

With a grumble of his own, he knocked his chin against the top of her head. "Settle your ass down, kid, and go to sleep. We got a date with the Danger Room in the morning."

Marie gave up with a sigh. If her skin flipped on and she drained him dry, it would be his own damn fault, wouldn't it, the jerkwad? With a mental shrug, she closed her eyes and let herself drift away, safe and snuggled into Logan's big, solid warmth.

As they drifted off, lulled by the righteous exhaustion of the well-fucked, neither of them heard the quiet creek of the floorboards or doors.

 _So, what did you think? Glad to have our time with Marie and Logan again? Let me know what you think of Victor and Beth, their progressing relationship. Anything too weird? As always, let me know what you think/love/hate._

 _Love, DotBC :)_


	26. Chapter 26

_Hey, so apparently I didn't actually post this chapter as I'd intended to. Whoops. I did, however, post it as the begining of its own story, so there's that. What I need to know from you, all you readers, is if you're ok with this becoming more of a 2-pairing story (L/M and V/oc) or if you want me to do any of the Victor/oc stuff in its own story. I need to know where you're standing. If it happens that you all want this to just stay Logan and Marie, then I'll remove this chapter. Please, let me know what you want me to do._

* * *

Beth eyes snapped open and she was instantly awake, but for long moments she laid silent and still, her brain refusing to process what her senses were telling her. She wore something made of the softest cotton that smelled, not unpleasantly, of damp and mossy earth and something that was like lightning. Under her, there appeared to be a soft mattress with smooth, cool, _clean_ sheets. All around her there were pillows that smelled faintly of the geese that had given up their downy feathers for the stuffing and a large, fluffy blanket that was currently smothering her.

With a little huff, she gave up the stillness in favor of comfort and pushed the blanket off her face and rolled to her left to meet Victor's unblinking gaze.

"Hey, pretty kitty." Her voice was low and sleep-roughened and it made her smile. It had been a long, long time, longer than she could literally remember, since she'd slept so deeply and well. Deliberately ignoring Victor, she closed her eyes and gave a long, luxurious stretch, rolling her shoulders and hips on the bed, twisting to one side then the other to stretch as fully as she could. When she was done, she rolled back to him with a long, gusty sigh to find he'd moved from his spot by the desk to barely a foot from the bed. The complete silence with which he'd moved made her jump a little in surprise to find him within arm's reach.

"We need to get you a bell!" The words were out of her mouth before she thought better of them; the narrowing of his blue-gold eyes made her wish she'd managed to stop her runaway tongue, but oh, well. To cover the sudden spike to purely feminine fear, she smirked at him in her customary ballsy way. Since he smirked right back, the curl of his lips baring just the tip of one over-long canine, she suspected that she'd not covered that spike very well. But what could you do when your opponent could smell your emotions, hear the tempo of your heartbeat?

Deep breath in, smell him… Damn it, all she could smell was the mossy earth and electricity, nothing to give away his feelings. Maddeningly, his heart-rate was steady and strong, not tell-tale racing or skips to give a clue to what he was thinking. Damn him for having all the control that she lacked.

Brazenly – if she couldn't beat him at the control game, she'd destroy him with showing her hand to the fullest – she rolled to her back and adjusted the blanket so most of her t-shirt-covered torso was exposed with the edge of the blanket just under the swell of her belly, then reached one hand up to touch the headboard. The heat in his gaze let her know he noticed the way the shirt pulled tight across the swells and dips of her chest.

She expected him to make some cutting remark, a snide little something about her being a dog and then leave; his sudden shift to sit on the edge of the bed surprised her but she didn't flinch away when he laid one large, hot palm on her belly.

It felt like the heat of his skin singed her through the soft cotton of his shirt.

He didn't look at her face, just began to slowly tug the shirt up, inching it up from underneath the blanket. It was torture for her, feeling the soft slide of the cotton over her skin. The burning in his gaze only sharpened when he pulled the shirt up enough to bare skin; she thought for a moment she could feel the heat on that exposed skin. Still, though, he didn't touch her yet but kept tugging, lifting her covering higher until the shirt was rucked up above her breasts and she was bare to his eyes.

Very slowly, he touched her, one big hand splayed in the valley between her breasts, thumb and pinkie brushing the underside of each, his hand was so large.

She'd been wrong before, the warmth of his hand through the shirt had only been a pleasant, sunny day compared to the blistering heat of his skin on hers now. Suddenly breathless, she watched him extend his claws ever so deliberately, knew he could feel her heart racing under his palm as the tiny pricks of those black nails over her flushed skin. When his hand stroked a firm line from cleavage to below her bellybutton, she let out a strangled giggle and reached for his hand; nothing so dangerous and deadly as his claws had the right to be so tickly!

He growled low in his throat and caught her reaching hand and then her free one, caging both in one of his above her head. Lightly, he ran the pads of his fingers over some of the bits of metal in her skin, tracing the words MUTIE FREAK much as Marie had done earlier; this touch caused a completely different reaction in the pit of her belly. The back of one claw ran over the corset piercing on her collarbone, clinking lightly over the little hoops. Gently, he was so unexpectedly gentle, he let his fingers climb her zig-zag of barbells from waist to shoulder. His nails clicked over the randomly scattered metal back to the tip of her right breast where he hooked the claw of his forefinger into the horizontal ring and tugged.

The deep breath Beth took was the only sound in the room as that tug arrowed straight from her breast to the place between her legs where heat and wetness had already begun to bloom.

Now Victor did look at her face, talking in the way her eyes were squeezed closed, her mouth parted just a little, a fine sheen of sweat already on her brow.

Lifting his hand, he increased the pressure on her ring for just a moment before he released her, enjoying the way her soft flesh returned to its natural, full shape. Scraping his claws over her skin, he treated her other nipple to the same attention, making sure to twist and tug just a little stronger. Testing the waters for later. When she arched a little into the tug then dropped her shoulders back to the bed and hunched in a little, he wanted to sink his teeth into her; that sweet little squirm was the movement of a woman who wanted, needed more pressure, more tension, just more…

He gave it to her, pulling sharply on the ring he had hooked, making her yelp at the sudden sensation, then releasing her to tug around at the vertical barbell. Feeling her, it, he could tell that whoever had pierced her had made sure to go deep with the barbell; he knew, from his own times in labs – and the more pleasant, but surprisingly similar, sex clubs – that such a placement forced the nipple to rise up into a constant of semi-stiffness. It had then been pierced again with the ring closer to the tip of the nipple, ensuring that any tug on the ring carried especially strong sensations, due to the constant stiffness. One a person into the pain-pleasure side of sex, it was, he knew, a tantalizing thrill.

On an unwilling subject, it was just one more little humiliation and it made him want to rip whoever had done it into many small and bloody pieces.

Beth, unaware of Victor's violent thoughts, arched and squirmed under his hand, her body moving to increase the pressure and sensations by its own volition. He let go of her wrists and swung himself farther up onto the bed, resting on his knees above her thighs. Short as she was, he had no trouble reaching all of her. Using both hands now, and all ten claws, he played with her, stroked and scratched at soft skin, tugged and twisted at sharp metal, all the while using his weight to keep her body still.

She fought him, not to get away he knew from her scent, but to get closer. The feel of her squirming under him, her strong, soft, struggling body was driving him to an edge he didn't know. Somewhere he'd not been before. A place where the desire to take and use and bruise was mixed with the desire to drive his partner crazy with lust until she begged for him fuck her anyway he pleased.

When his claws went deeper than he intended on a pass over the rounded curve of her stomach and little blood trials sparked blackly in the soft moonlight, Beth arched and would have cried out if he hadn't clamped his hand around her throat to keep the scream in.

The scent of her went from hazing the air to flooding his senses and he felt himself go dizzy for a long moment. With a deliberately heavy caress he trailed his right hand down her body, smearing the blood on her belly – the small scratches all healed now – and stroked farther, pushing the blanket away as he went. His left hand was still around her throat, easing just enough so she could grab a breath every few seconds. Not that he needed to be that careful with her, he mentally gloated. She didn't need to breathe like a normal frail would, thank Christ for her feral mutation.

Moving slowly, to make her crazy, she just knew it, he pulled the blanket back more, baring the top of her pubic area. Beth still had her eyes closed; blocking out site the better to increase the amount of sensation she was feeling. When Victor stopped moving, just sat there, her lower body bare to mid-thigh, she popped one eye open to see what was making him wait. Surely he knew what to do with a woman? God, she'd be so disappointed if he didn't know where to go from here.

Before she could say anything to question his abilities or knowledge, he stroked long fingers over the shaved mound of her sex. His claws caught again and again on the pieces of metal covering the tender skin. Down he ran his fingers, both hands now, spreading the soft folds of her body, tracing her outer lips then lightly probing at the weeping inner ones. One thumb rolled over and over the nub of her clit, distended both from his touch and from the barbell and ring it sported.

It was too much, watching her writhe under his hands through the red haze of fury that clouded his vision. He lightly tugged at the dozen rings adoring her labia and thought about how he'd kill the ones who did this to her.

Even as he soothed himself with the mental images of all the most painful ways he knew how to bring death to unfortunate prey, he moved his fingers faster, retracting the claws on his left hand so he could thrust two, then three of his fingers deep into her body. Like he had with her nipples, he hooked his right fore-claw through the ring on her clit and tugged in sharp counterpoint to his thrusts.

She wanted to come, she was desperate for it, but something was holding her back. Through the flood of her arousal, he could smell the struggle, the frustration. He pounded his fingers into her and watched her fight to reach the edge. Her little fingers were running over her own torso, scrubbing roughly at the hoops and bars, squeezing her breasts, trying to pull as her own nipples. Snarling, wanting the taste of her on his tongue, that flame-and-storm scent that had been pricking at his brain all day, Victor dropped to press his weight over her body and dug his teeth into the soft mound of flesh that was her breast.

Still thrusting away with his fingers, he sunk his teeth deep, rumbling when the smooth skin gave way and warm copper zipped across his tongue. Lifting up, he clamped his teeth around the ring in her nipple, letting his sharp teeth graze and scrape at the tender flesh before he managed to get a grip on the metal.

Down below, where his fingers were still playing in the slick heat of her pussy, he flipped his right hand so her tight, throbbing clit was trapped between his pointer and middle fingers. Biting her nipple and tugging the ring, he pinched his fingers tightly, squeezing the hard little nub. For half a heartbeat her scent jittered with pain before she exploded with a strangled cry.

He didn't let up, didn't let her go until she toppled over the edge again, with more of a sob this time. From the smell of her, that one had been equal parts painful and pleasurable. When finally she was still under him, he lifted his head and licked the blood from his lips. The breast he'd assaulted was smeared with it but the flesh was all peaches and cream under it, unmarred and unscarred.

Aroused to the point of pain himself, Victor levered away from the bed and crossed the moonlit room to the door. Looking back over his shoulder to where she lay on the bed, splayed out, bloody and sated to her toes, he grinned darkly.

"I'm so fucking glad you're a feral, frail, it's going to make this so much more fun." The bedroom door closed quietly on the end of his only words to her during the whole interlude.

Alone again in her soft bed and pillows and sheets, Beth stared up at the shadowed ceiling and wondered just what the fuck that had been, and how could she make happen again and again and again…

* * *

 _So, what did you all think? 1. Keep it here, do both pairings in one story, 2. remove it and do two seperate stories, or 3. keep it here, but don't do any more like it, save those for their own story. Let me know what you want :)_

 _Love, DotBC_


	27. Chapter 27

_Hi, all you wonderful people. There are two updates tonight, check to see if the current chapter 26 about Victor and Beth is still there. I'm waiting to get some more imput from you guys, but the few review I've gotten so far make me inclined to keep that chapter as part of it's own story. If anyone is interested, it's already published under a different name,_ The Importance Of Being Feral _, and I do intend to make that a stand alone in this same story-verse. Like companion pieces, but not nearly that deditcated. So here's what will probably actually be chapter 26 of_ Better Than I Used To Be _, please enjoy!_

* * *

Bright any early the next morning, Marie lay panting and sweaty under Logan. Above her, although he grinned smugly at her, he sweated just as much. Because of his famous stamina, he didn't pant like she did, but he was having a hell of a time keeping her down, so Marie could at least be happy that she was putting up a good fight.

"Get off of me, you bucket of rust!"

He laughed and ducked the fist she aimed for his nose, catching it an inch from his face and tugging it over her head. Under him, she twisted and managed to bring a booted foot up to land a solid kick on his ass. Her reward was a rough grunt and enough of a shift in his weight for her to roll with him. While compare to his metal-reinforced skeleton, her weight was pretty puny, she knew how to use it to her advantage and quickly pressed a knee to his balls and grabbed his wrist with her bare hands. Short nails dug deep into corded muscles and hair-roughened skin.

Logan's response was a startled yelp, one he'd deny later, at the unexpectedly vicious attack and he tried to pry her off but she clung like a burr, only increasing the pressure of her nails in his skin. While he couldn't unstick her, he used his superior strength to bring his hands up to her throat, gritting his teeth against the painful pricks of her nails. Gently, mostly just to show her that he could, he wrapped his fingers around her neck and squeezed just a little.

That damn eyebrow was riding high on his brown when Marie scowled down at him. He opened his mouth, possibly to ask what she was going to do next or, less likely, to offer suggestions, but he froze then his whole face contorted as Marie pulled had and fast on him with her mutation. For five long seconds she pulled, soaking in his strength and senses.

Finally, with a from-the-gut cry, she jerked away from him threw herself to the side so he could breathe without her weight on top of him. Then they were both gasping, Logan's face ashen and sweaty as his breath wheezed in and out of his laboring chest.

For her own part, Marie lay on her back and pressed her hands to her temples in an attempt to control the immensity of what she'd just absorbed. However friendly Logan and her Wolverine to her, they were still wild, untamed, with massive amounts of power and energy. Logan's well, filled as it was with Wolverine's force was deep, possibly limitless and brimming with strength and taking a long pull from it was as heady as any eighty proof she'd ever drunk.

 _Eyes screwed closed, hands on her head, Marie lay there and watched her Mate prowling around her mindscape, big and rough and a little mean. Sensing her presence on the plain, he whipped around and sneered at her. She didn't flinch, it was her mind, after all, and she'd learned long ago that he'd ride rough-shod over her if she let him. But if she stood up and made sure he knew she was in charge in here, he was her strongest supporter._

 _With that in mind, and all her lessons with the Professor, she made herself "big" in her mind, large and confident and powerful. For a long moment, the Logan/Wolverine in her head snapped and snarled; slowly though, when she didn't respond to his challenge, he calmed and dipped his head to acknowledge her authority. Then he grinned and she knew he was her man again._

" _That was nicely done, kid, took me out pretty neatly." He made a show of looking around, nodded in approval. "You keep it clean in here. Got Jeanie all locked down?" He was referring to her having absorbed Jean the morning before, during that fun little impromptu meeting in the hall outside his bedroom._

" _Yeah, sugar, got her all boxed up. You don't want a box, do you?" He never had before, even in the way back, before she knew how to communicate with her mental passengers, he'd never allowed himself to be caged._

 _He shook his head and took another look at the scene in her mind. A wicked smile curved his lips when he realized it was the clearing where they'd played just a few days before, where he'd marked her. Where he'd made her come the first time._

" _I'm good staying here, kid, if that works for you."_

 _Marie grinned back. "You can stay out, just don't get in my way."_

 _His laughter echoed in her mind as Marie pulled herself back to the physical landscape._

Logan lay on his back next to her, gasping for breath as his system roiled in pain after the draining. _Goddamn, that hurt!_ He always forgot how that hot little tingle could go to a lightning storm in the blood in a heartbeat. For long moments, it was all he could to do keep breathing while his suddenly very _human_ body coped with the brutal shock of solid metal where bone marrow should be. Idly he thought that he should have Jeanie take some samples during the recovery phase of one of these drainings, it would be interesting to see what his bloodwork looked like. 'Course they couldn't do it in the lab, he and Marie didn't handle that place too well…

While his girl had drained him good, she hadn't held on long, so it was no more than fifteen minutes or so until he was able to once again breathe without the agonized panting and his heart stopped its crazed and wild thumping. Not long after, he felt that he was probably able to sit up without embarrassing himself.

Pleased that he'd managed an upright positon without flopping back to his side, he took another chance and slowly scooted himself back so he was propped up by the wall. Once there, and once he'd got his breath back, he risked turning his head to check on Marie. She was still lying where he'd left her, eyes closed and her brow furrowed.

"You good, kid?" His voice was still weaker than he'd like and he cleared his throat before continuing. "You got me all tucked away in there?" He knew she had what she thought of as boxes for all the personalities she absorbed, that she tucked them up and away. But, with Chuck's help, she'd gotten good at it; it mostly only took her a minute or two to package up anyone these days, she surely wasn't still struggling with him, was she? He felt an irrational anger at himself for giving her trouble in her head. He started to move, to go to her, to help or offer comfort or offer to kick his ass or something, but her eyes opened and she tipped her head back to meet his.

Her mossy green irises were replaced with blazing gold. It was eerily like looking in a mirror when the Wolverine was in control, his own wildness reflected in her eyes. Slowly, a smile curved her lips, giving her a dangerous air, even upside down. "You don't get a box, sugar."

He wanted to ask what she meant, but she'd rolled to her hands and knees and was advancing on him, all slinky hips and rolling shoulders and swinging hair. Involuntarily he swallowed hard, felt his Adam's apple bob, and watched her eyes gleam brighter. Mustering a glare, he managed to pull himself to a standing position, albeit using the wall as a prop. Thank god his healing factor was coming back.

His glare didn't seem to have any effect on Marie, since she just came on, sliding across the floor in her soft workout clothes and her boots, hair down and wild, eyes glowing and dangerous.

"He giving you trouble in there, kid?" He assumed, from the glowing eyes, that she'd gotten the Wolverine, not him. Weird, since his companion had been letting him run the work out when she'd turned her power on, but weirder things had happened.

Closer she crawled, her smile still in place. "Wolvie's not in here, sugar, it's all you." The last words were slow and drawn out and spoken directly into his crotch as she all but scaled his legs to hook her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. He batted at her hands, feeling ridiculous but still worried that she was struggling to control her mental version of his personality.

"Kid, wait a minute, if you got all this wild going on maybe we should call Chuck and have him help you box me up." Shit, the healing factor was really going now, happily directing all the available blood below his waist in a rush that was leaving him as light-headed as her original attack.

She smirked as she danced her busy fingers under the stretchy waistband. Found him hot and hard. When he shifted in her grip, she nuzzled her face into the soft cotton of his pants, flaring her nostrils and using all the newly-refreshed feral senses flooding her system to smell him, them, through the flimsy barrier. Wanting to see him, she tipped her face up, making sure to rub along his throbbing length the whole way. His wild-eyed look was reward enough to have her dipping back and licking over the tented fabric.

He was already dripping and, with her borrowed senses, she could taste him, so she closed her eyes and let out a hungry moan; she wanted more of that salty, potent flavor and she knew how to get it. Moving quickly now, not giving him a second to protest – not that he really wanted to, but he didn't know how she'd do later if someone walked into the Danger Room right now – she yanked his pants down and slid her mouth over him.

His raspy groan drew a purring moan from her, only a little muffled by his cock in her mouth. Wanting his hands on her head, wanting him to be active in this, she let go of one of his hips and gripped his hand, pulling it to the back of her head. Taking the hint, he wound his fingers into the wild mane of her hair and tugged her closer. That pulling on her scalp only elevated her pleasure in this activity and she sucked hard on the head of him, moaning her appreciation of the spurt of salty fluid on her tongue and his low groan.

She wanted him to know that it was all her, just enjoying his senses, not his presence in her head that was making her want to do this, but when she tried to lift off him to say something to that effect, he tightened his grip on her head, using both hands now, and pulled her tighter to him.

Due to her mouthful of cock, she couldn't laugh and it came out as a sort of nasal chuff. He responded with a rumbling growl and she swore she could feel herself beginning to drip.

As she sucked and licked at him, she could feel the blood racing under his skin, in time with the heavy pounding of his heard and the deep, ragged breaths; he was close, she could feel it, could taste it in the near-constant trickle from his tip. Between one lick and the next, Logan took over, holding her head firmly and pumping his hips, moving her and his body in rough counterpoint. Every time he slid his head over her tongue, she made sure to flick and lick; she wouldn't be helpless, even held tight.

With one last, ragged groan, Logan pulled her close. Marie ended up with her nose buried in the tangle of hair at his groan and found her senses flooded with the smell of them both; he hadn't showered before the workout and his body was still covered in both of their juices. As he held her there, buried in her throat, she slid her agile tongue over his heavy balls, licking at the taste of them together. He came on a panting growl, pumping straight down her throat, depriving her of the taste and feel of him on her tongue.

When he finally let her go and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed and breath still unsteady, Marie lifted off of him and scowled. He didn't immediately look down at her, so she gave a bad-tempered huff and reached out to tug sharply at the damp hair between his thighs. This time his eyes snapped open and pinned her with a look that managed to be a combination of amusement, satisfaction, and annoyance. The satisfaction one and he put his hand on her head again, stroking his fingers through the wild mass of her hair, pulling her close again.

"Lick me clean, darlin'." It was an order, softly given, and she wanted to melt, but her own annoyance at being denied one of her favorite things over-ruled the melting impulse and she resisted.

"There's nothing _to_ clean, cowboy, you took care of that."

Her snippy tone had him opening his eyes and looking at her more closely. Then a grin spread over his face and he rubbed his thumb over her lip, slipping inside her mouth. Her tongue quickly, instinctively, licked at it and his grin widened.

"Damn, kid, if I'd known all these years about this sweet little cocksucker hiding inside the brash badass – " He didn't finish, as her fist plowed into his solar plexus, a sucker punch that he was pretty proud of, since she'd learned that from. Gasping for breath, from the punch and from laughter, he caught her when she scrambled up from the floor and took off for the door. Snagging her from behind, he hoisted her up, kicking and screaming, and hurried down the corridor to the back elevator. When they were in the elevators and hadn't run into anyone, he pressed her face-first against the wall and put his mouth to work on her neck, nipping and sucking, and scraping his teeth and tongue over all that soft, smooth skin. She'd stopped screeching by the first floor and was actively moaning and moving against him by the third.

When the doors opened on their bedrooms' hallway, he hoisted her up over one shoulder again and barreled for his bedroom. This time it was shrieks of laughter that she was letting out as she bounced along with him. When her flailing boots almost caught Scott in the face, Logan was hard pressed to not stop and make some comment, but the feeling of her warm, wriggling body in his arms was enough incentive to keep him going.

Approaching the end of the hall, Logan saw Beth's door swing in and her rumpled tawny head pop out. When she saw that it was Marie making the awful racket that had woken her up at six in the morning, she glared good-naturedly.

Logan did stop this time, turning his back to Beth, who appeared to be wearing nothing more than an over-sized T-shirt, so Marie could squeak out a good morning to her. Though he didn't mean to get a read on Beth, his senses were jacked up in anticipation of getting alone with his Mate, and he could smell the scent of pleasure and female arousal and, most unexpectedly, blood coming from her and her room. He could also smell Creed, again on Beth and in her room, and figured they'd have to have a talk later. But right now Beth was smiling and didn't smell like pain and Marie was making a damp spot on his own shirt and he fucking needed her, _now._

Feeling his hand creeping up her pants towards her ass, Marie jiggled a little on his shoulder and smiled at Beth. "Why don't you go back to bed, we can meet for breakfast in an hour – two! Two hours!" she quickly amended when Logan gave her a sharp pinch on her right cheek. When Beth laughed, Logan took off the last few feet to his door.

Marie sent her friend a grin and a cheery little wave from her position over Logan's shoulder, then prepared herself to be well and thoroughly ravished by her –whoop, there go those pants! – very impatient lover. The bedroom door slammed as she began to shriek again.

* * *

 _Let me know what you think, I looooove to hear from you people, it brightenes up my day. And please do let me know your thougts of the Victor and Beth chapter, I'd love if some of you wonderful people read the other story too. I'll almost certainly be removing it from this story, but I really, really would love some feedback on it, what you guys like/don't like. And as always, let me know what you think of our two main characters! In fact, just let me know what you think of anything, love or hate :)_

 _Many hugs, DotBC_


	28. Chapter 28

_So sorry it's been forever since I've posted a chapter, I have to be honest, I got sucked up into Supernatural reader-inserts and have had a little too much fun writing them :) I'm on tumblr with the same username, if that's anyone's poison of choice! So, I decided to leave in the chapter 27, with Victor and Beth, but I'll try really hard to avoid too much of their story in this main one. Like here at the end of this chapter, I had another part with just the two of them written, but I changed my mind and I'll make that chapter 2 of The Importance Of Being Feral. Thanks to everyone who wrote encouragement to not forget this piece, you guys are all wonderful, wonderful people. Love, DotBC_

* * *

It was more than the promised two hours later when Marie finally managed to pry herself free of Logan's arms and demand food. A workout followed by a _workout_ meant her body required fuel. Since he didn't object too much when she reminded him of the rule – you fuck someone all night, or morning , as it were, you were obliged to feed them the following morning – she assumed he was hungry too.

Leaving him in the shower, Marie slipped into her own room to grab a quick change of clothes then jogged down the stairs and into the kitchen. Seeing as it was going on ten in the morning on a Saturday, the kitchen was bustling with late rising teens getting cereal and donuts for breakfast and early rising teens grabbing an early lunch.

Deciding that she didn't want to spend breakfast fending off impertinent questions or keeping Logan from scaring the crap out of anyone, she snagged two plates from the cabinet and filled them with slices of cold ham, bacon, left-over pancakes. She topped Logan's plate off with one of the bear claws from his fridge and grabbed a peach from the bowel on the counter for herself. Trusting his nose to lead him to her, she hip-bumped the outside door open, balancing the filled plates on two mugs of coffee.

The morning was crisp and breezy, making her re-think the idea of sitting by the lake. Instead, she slipped around the side of the house, heading for the little patio by the greenhouses, tucked away and out of the wind. There was a small table with several chairs around it there that would be perfect for them. By the time Logan had found her, indeed following her scent, she'd unloaded the plates from the cups and gotten the forks and knives out of the pocket she'd squirreled them in.

At the sight of Beth trailing half a step behind Logan, Marie internally winced. Damn, in just that short of time, she'd forgotten they were going to do breakfast together, and now she felt like an ass.

"Beth, I'm sorry, I forgot – " Marie broke off when the feral pulled an apple and a napkin-wrapped bundle from her pockets.

"It's fine, Logan said you'd gone outside, so I figured I'd just grab some food and come too, if that's still ok?" She glanced between Marie and Logan. Logan didn't look particularly welcoming, but neither did he look like he was going to bark at her, and Marie was smiling, so Beth figured it was indeed alright. Cheerfully she plopped down in one of the chairs, pretending not to notice when Logan shoved his chair closer to Marie's and crowded in when she sat.

"I suppose I should probably talk to this Professor I heard mentioned last night?"

Marie looked up from where she was fighting over a piece of bacon that Logan was attempting to snitch off her place. "He's in Washington but I think he's – damn it, give me that back! – but he should be back this evening." Facing Beth as she spoke, Marie whacked Logan's arm with the back of her hand while he crunched the pilfered bacon. "I know it sounds intimidating, but he's really a nice guy, and annoyingly fair. I can't imagine him not letting you stay here."

"He'll let her stay." Creed's voice broke into the conversation. He'd approached quietly and Marie jumped a little in her seat, startled at his sudden appearance, but Beth and Logan just kept eating.

 _Damn ferals._

Beth glanced up, a light smile on her face. "You sound very sure of that."

"It's his way. He's usually the good guy in this war, so he'd probably let you stay for that, but you been locked in a lab, got out somehow. He's going to want to know about that."

The blandly pleasant expression on Beth's face cracked at the mention of the lab, but it was only for a heartbeat before she said, "Well, I don't remember much, don't know what help I can be." Her tone clearly said _Drop it_.

"He's a telepath," Marie said gently. "He's got a way of getting into your head, helping you remember memories, even if they're old or suppressed or, ah, tangled up." She didn't say it but she was thinking of how she'd spend hours with the Professor to help straighten out the many people's memories all crowding her mind, before she'd learned to box them up tightly.

Logan's hand covered the back of her neck and gave a light squeeze, rough thumb stroking goosebumps to life under her ear. "I don't have much of my memories, but what I have, I can thank Chuck for a lot of it."

Beth looked like she wanted to know more about why Logan didn't have his memories, but she thought better of it for the moment. Turning to Victor, she gave him an inquisitive look.

"No, he hasn't been in my memories. I didn't forget most of my life like the runt, here."

"It's been a long-ass time, of course I'd forget things, even without a bullet in my brain," Logan growled, eyes glimmering golden at the insult. Ferals, killers, soldiers, it didn't matter, they were brothers and sibling rivalry ran deep.

Creed's nostrils flared at the annoyance coming from his brother and a nasty smile curved his lips, but before he could speak, Beth asked, "So, how old are you, anyway?" Both brothers glanced at her in surprise; Marie didn't quite hold back a laugh at the identical, flummoxed looks on their faces. Logan whipped he head to glare at her while Creed glowered at Beth.

"Why?" he grunted.

"I just like to know, honestly. I'm ninety-seven."

"We're more than that, kit," he smirked.

Unfazed by the nickname, Beth glanced over at Logan, who had decided he didn't have a part of this conversation and was whispering in Marie's ear. Marie in turn was flushed and growing redder by the second. But when she noticed that Beth's eyes were on them, she shoved Logan back with a sheepish little smile.

"They're at least 170. Neither of them can remember their birth year, but from a few events they do remember, and we can research, we know they were children in 1845." Marie didn't mention that the main piece of information they used was the night Thomas Logan and John Howlett were murdered in 1845. That wasn't her story to tell.

Eyebrows raised, Beth eyed both men. "Well, jeez, I thought _I_ looked good for my age!"

Marie chuckled while Logan and Creed just looked on impassively. Suddenly shaking his head, Logan pushed his chair back and hauled his mate up by her arm, slinging his arm around her waist to stabilize her when she stumbled. "This has been fun. Bye." Ignoring Marie's protests at the abrupt departure and Creed's amused smirk that he could almost _hear_ , Logan dragged his girl away, neatly avoiding all her attempts to trip him up and make him stop. They quickly disappeared behind the greenhouses, distance fading Marie's voice to nothing but a buzz, cut off by a sudden loud shriek of laughter, quickly muffled.


End file.
